


Unrecognizable

by PromisetheMoon



Category: Hermitcraft RPF, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, So I guess this isn't really a Grian-centered fic anymore, hey look more characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:41:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 59,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27984789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PromisetheMoon/pseuds/PromisetheMoon
Summary: Hehe, new AU go brrr!Here comes Promise from the depths of Wattpad, here to bring all you readers a new AU!Mumbo's been missing for three months, working on "a project." But three months is a long time with no sight of him... So what is he doing?Join the Discord! https://discord.gg/bqYkHZzXtQ
Comments: 34
Kudos: 92





	1. ~Prologue~

Grian's eyes fluttered open as he woke up to a still silence. Groaning slightly, he sat up, stretching. He glanced out the window of his mansion-- it was still rather dark out, nearly dawn. How long had he slept? Not long, surely. He didn't notice when he drifted off. He didn't quite care, however, and decided to get up anyways. There was not much hope left for sleep, after all. Not now that he was awake. It's quite hard to fall back asleep again once you're already awake.

Grian hadn't been getting much sleep recently, he noticed. He'd often lie in bed for hours staring at the ceiling, unable to fall asleep, then wake up long before sunrise in the mornings. That was no shocker for him, though. Not with the current... situation.

He kicked his feet over the side of his bed, still groggy. Standing up, he dug through one of his chests to grab a few golden carrots for breakfast. He nibbled on one, the sweetness of the carrot melding with the rather tart tang of the gold, as he made his way to the front of his mansion. Looking at it from the outside, it appeared that he had not worked on it much for a while.

And, well, there was good reason for that. He hadn't been working on it much. He had barely done more than rough detailing over a good bit of time. Three months, to be exact.

Why had he not worked on his mansion, or anything, for that matter? The answer was simple, really.

It had been three months. Three long, terrible, god-awful months. Three months since what? Three months since the Hermits had last been completely at ease. Three months since tensions hadn't been high. Three months since Mumbo Jumbo disappeared.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Mumbo Jumbo had been missing for three months. The last anyone had heard of him was a simple message he left in his base. On a sign simply read the words,

"Working on a new project."

That was the last any of the Hermits had seen of the moustached man, and it certainly wasn't helpful.

Of course, no-one had worried at first; a few days without sight of a hermit was pretty normal, nothing to worry about. It wasn't uncommon to disappear for a bit while mining or such.

No, Mumbo's absence was not noted, or acknowledged even, for a good two and a half weeks. And even then, the Hermits had not truly worried, per se, but more along the lines of casual recognition. Some even joked about it, with Iskall going so far as to make a missing poster for him. That earned a number of laughs. Ha ha, Missing: Mumbo. Hope we find him soon!

Soon, Mumbo had even made it into the Hermiton Herald. By the time a month had gone by, most of the light-hearted chitchat had dwindled. A few Hermits, Grian included, had started to worry just a bit. Projects usually didn't take this long, not without any surfacing whatsoever.

Pretty soon after that, a few of the more anxious Hermits decided to search Mumbo's base. What had happened to him? The Hermits respawned when the died, so that was out of the question. If Mumbo had somehow perished, everyone would know and he would simply have just respawned in his base, lest he had brought a bed with him... wherever he had gone.

But the Hermits had found nothing but emptiness in Mumbo's bases. Nothing but neglect and thick dust. It was apparent that he hadn't been there in a long time. The only thing that was different was the increasingly large collection of minecart messages from Grian, who had been sending one everyday for about a month and a half. But, the way they sat awkwardly on one another, erratic and random, proved that Mumbo hadn't even looked at the messages.

Dejected, the Hermits abandoned the attempts at finding their friend. He'd turn up eventually, right? ...right?

At two months without any Mumbo sightings, even the more lax Hermits were starting to really worry. People didn't just... Go missing. Especially not someone like Mumbo. Had something happened to him?

Over time, the hopes about Mumbo suddenly reappearing began to fade. The usual energy of HermitCraft was slowly lost, until seeing a genuine smile on the face of a Hermit, especially Grian--who was seemingly taking this worse than the rest, was rather uncommon.

After three months, activity was mostly back to normal, but a heavy sense of unease hung over the Hermits in place of the excited sparks that used to cover HermitCraft. Hermits slowly went back to their daily lives, but many things such as pranks were highly neglected due to the negative atmosphere. Of course, some Hermits tried to lighten the mood with new minigames, but they seemed to have backfired, with some of the others getting snappy, saying 'they shouldn't be joking around in a time like this.'

Tensions were high and excitement was low in HermitCraft. Mumbo's sudden disappearance was rather dampening on the mood of the Hermits. Seeing as their friend had gone missing nearly without a trace, anyone or no-one could've been responsible, or at least knew something, so some Hermits had even begun to grow suspicious of their friends.

Needless to say, HermitCraft was not a pleasant place at the time.


	2. ~Chapter One~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's hiding, but if you look hard close enough, it's clear as day.

Grian's POV-

Grian stood outside of his mansion, staring up at the splendor. It was certainly a sight to behold; incredibly large, the mansion gave off a powerful aura to all who stood before it. The grays of the walls mixed with the blue-greens of the roofs painted the mansion with a regal, majestic feel, looking calmly down on everyone else. The sun had just begun to rise, casting the mansion with a warm glow. Grian was quite fond of his creation, though it had been left largely untouched for so long; he had never even got around to creating a matching hole on the side opposite of the one that already existed.

This was saddening to him; not only had he lost his friend, but now apparently the motivation to do his favorite thing: building, had diminished as well. Usually it was calming for him; losing himself in his work was quite serene, especially something as satisfying as the small details of his mansion.

But now, every time he began to place or break any blocks, he remembered the fun he had slightly altering Mumbo's base those many times. Usually the remembrance of how long it had taken the redstoner to notice the huge Grian head he had put gave him a laugh, but now it just made him anxious with the wonder if Mumbo would ever be back to notice all of Grian's other shenanigans.

Grian's thoughts were disrupted as he heard a swish from behind him. He let out a surprised yelp as his back sparked with pain. His hand instinctively flew to where an arrow had lodged itself. He whipped around in surprise to find himself face-to-fleshless-face with a skeleton who was now notching another arrow in its bow. Of course, Grian should've expected this-- his mansion was still not quite lit up, and it was still rather dark. He drew his sword as another arrow stabbed into his arm. These monsters should die off soon; it was nearly light out. Even so, he made quick work of the skeleton, slicing it with his sword before taking some left-over bones and arrows for his storage.

Soon enough, just as Grian predicted, the sun rose high in the sky and distraught noises of burning monsters filled the area. Grian never enjoyed the noise, or the smell for that matter, of the zombies as their flesh set alight and quickly charred to ash, nor the cracking sound of burning bones from all the skeletons who hadn't retreated back into the caves.

Grian pulled his elytra on over his shoulders after checking it to see how it was faring. It was a bit worn, but he decided it'd be fine for a while yet. He flew over to his barge in the shopping district to check for any more sales. He wasn't surprised at his making of just twenty diamonds, but he would take whatever he could.

He flew off, gliding by the large form of Grumbot as he went after a moment's hesitation, he landed on the platform, staring up at the robot's face. He felt a pang in his heart as he glanced at His moustache, made to represent Mumbo's part of Him. Grian wondered once again, how sentient Grumbot was. He had been displaying levels of sentience, calling the two Hermits 'dad's for instance.

He fingered one of the diamonds he had thrown into his inventorial pouch before pulling it out with a sigh. He scribbled on a question.

"Do you know where Mumbo is?"

Grian knew in the back of his mind that this was worthless; he had tried this twice already to no avail. But he may as well try again, maybe Grumbot had figured something out?

He already knew what the answer would be even before he pressed the buttons.

He stepped back to stare at Grumbot as He thought. After a moment, an answer spat out of Him, His eyes tilting with sadness.

"GRUMBOT DOES NOT KNOW WHERE DAD #2 IS."

Grian sighed as he picked up the slip. He figured this. "Thanks for trying, Grumbot," he muttered. His hand pressed on the note, crumpling it slightly. He shoved it in his pocket, swapping it out for a few rockets. In an instant, he was back in the air.

As per usual, Grian flew towards Mumbo's main base to see if anything had changed at all. He didn't expect to see anything but he had been going nearly everyday, and he wasn't about to stop now. He landed in the center of the ruined building in the middle and glanced around to see if anything new was there.

The base hadn't gained anything new since the last time Grian or the other Hermits had been around. But Grian noticed one thing.

The sign with the message was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heh


	3. ~Chapter Two~

Grian hurriedly looked around Mumbo's base. It was gone, wasn't it? The sign wasn't where it had been left standing for three months. In fact, it wasn't anywhere. That couldn't be a coincidence, could it be? No... This had to mean something. He had to tell the other Hermits.

Grian pulled up his arm to access his communicator, a device that looked similar to a watch that attached to his wrist. It was a silver-blue band with a square with a screen on it. The screen glowed an electric blue, illuminating Grian's face as it shown towards the builder. He tapped it once and a translucent screen blinked into existence above it, displaying all of the recent messages. Grian didn't look at them, instead hastily typing out a calling for the Hermits.

Guys, come to Mumbo's base. It's urgent

Everyone's communicator chimed at the same time as Grian's message went through. Suddenly, a number of more chimes filled the air as many of the other Hermits typed confused messages in response.

? Why?  
On my way!  
Why Grian? Something wrong?   
Coming

... And many more. Grian shot back another two messages:

I'll explain when you all get here  
It's urgent

Grian's communicator rang with a few more messages before he tapped it again, turning it off. He paced Mumbo's base again, checking to see if anything else had changed, while he waited.

\---

It didn't take long for all of the other Hermits to get there. Pretty soon, Grian noticed that everyone had arrived.

He flew up to a high point in Mumbo's base, being sure not to disturb anything else. He clapped his hands twice to gather the Hermits' attentions. He started to explain what had happened-- how he had flown here to find the sign gone.

He wasn't sure what kind of reaction he expected from the Hermits, but it definitely wasn't dead silence. Grian stood there expectantly, gaze flitting between his friends. The only sound that could be heard in the quiet was the light flowing of water down Mumbo's base. That, and, of course, the wild panic of Grian's heart in his chest. Even though the two seperate noises were rather soft, they flooded Grian's brain as he waited for a response.

Surely they had to be excited, or, at least, interested. Mumbo's base hadn't changed a bit in months, and now suddenly the reason he was missing was straight up gone! That had to mean something, right? His eyes were wide and pleading as he glanced around at the others. They simply stared at him. Hints of pity shone in some of their gazes.

Doc stepped forward. He drew a breath then started to speak. "Look, Grian, we all know how much you miss Mumbo. We all do. But I think you may be grasping at straws here."

Grian stared at him incredulously. What was he saying? How could they not tell how important this was? He glanced around at his other friends. They all nodded in agreement with Doc. Some of their gazes were softer than others, but they all had that same mocking look of sympathy in their eyes.

How could they not see the meaning of this? This was the first change in the moustached man's base in months since he had disappeared, how could they not be as excited over it? Did they not care?

Grian lept down from where he was standing, elytra opening as a sort of parachute. He landed on the floor in front of everyone, barely disturbing anything at all besides some layers of dust. He tried to start to explain himself. "But guys, don't you think it's weird ho-"

He was cut off by Tango, who was shaking his head. "Grian, it could've just been a zombie or something that knocked it over or destroyed it. It doesn't have to mean anything."

Grian shook his head as well, an edge of unwelcome desperation creeping into his voice as he started to protest. "But it's been three months and nothing has changed, and suddenly now-"

Once again, he was cut off, this time by Stress, who had by now walked up to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "Grian, we know how much this has affected you. It's affected us as well. We understand how you feel." She smiled warmly at him, but it didn't quite reach her eyes that now sparkled with sadness. She pulled her arm away and backed up, then nodded to him. She slid her elytra back on and, in a matter of seconds, was out of sight. The other Hermits followed suit until it was only Grian, standing alone, in his absent friend's base.

After a moment, he let out a yell of frustration for no-one to hear. He was just so... Done. His best friend was missing without a trace, and the second something happens, no-one believes it means anything.

Were they right? Was he finding something that wasn't there? Was he that desperate to find Mumbo that when he looked for a lead, his mind found one that didn't exist? Was he going crazy? No, he couldn't be. This had to mean something!

After another moment of just standing there, with only the rushing water to fill his head, Grian adjuated his elytra. With a leap, he skyrocketed into the air, spreading his wings. A few moments later, he arrived at the entrance to his old hobbit hole, he had thrown a minecart and a notebook into his inventory pouch, ready to send another message to Mumbo's base. He had been doing so for awhile now-- he wasn't about to stop.

He touched ground. And that's when he heard it, a familiar, annoying gonging noise. Was that... His and Mumbo's messaging system? He rushed into the hobbit hole and towards the noise, before stopping abruptly.

What if it wasn't Mumbo, and another Hermit was simply trying to get Grian's attention? What if it was Mumbo Jumbo? What would Grian do then? What would he say, think, feel... What would he do? With a sigh of resolve he walked into the sight of his messaging system...

To see a familiar moustached face waving at him from a minecart, a sheepish smile plastered on his features.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :3


	4. ~Chapter Three~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone hurt themselves in their confusion!

Grian stared, dumbstruck, at the sight before him. That was... That was Mumbo Jumbo. The same Mumbo Jumbo that had been missing for three months. The same Mumbo Jumbo who had disappeared without a trace. That same Mumbo Jumbo was now sitting in a minecart, grinning stupidly at Grian with a wave.

After a moment of silence, besides the incessant gonging, of courses, Grian rushed up to his friend and flung his arms around him in a hug.

"You- you SPOON, you absolute MORON- where have you been? It- it's been three months," Grian stammered. Relieved, tears began to brim his eyes. He hadn't seen his best friend in months, and now suddenly he was back, and everything would be okay. He hugged him for a moment more before backing up, allowing Mumbo to speak.

"Hi Grian-" he started. "Been awhile." He rubbed his neck, still grinning. He stepped out of the minecart and moved it aside so that the incessant gonging would stop filling the air with its deafening ringing.

Grian folded his arms. "I'd say! What have you been doing all this time?! Where have you been?!" Though his questions sounded accusatory, his voice was laced with laughter. He was so giddy to have his friend back, he wasn't even upset at what had happened. He was just relieved that Mumbo seemed alright.

"Where have I been? Oh, uh, y'know, _around_ _."_ He chuckled nervously. His face flushed red with embarrassment, and he seemed to find a spot in the floor very interesting.

Grian now cocked his head. "Mumbo, none of us have seen you for three months. How have you 'been around?'" His eyes shone with confusion. How had no-one seen him? They had thoroughly checked his base. "X couldn't even find your coordinates from your communicator."

Xisuma, being the admin, the leader of Hermitcraft, was able to track all of the Hermit's locations through their communicators. They had a tracking device on them, specifically for this reason: in case anyone got lost and needed help getting back safely and with all of their items. But what was strange was, despite his best attempts at fiddling around with the system, X had not been able to find the moustached man. There were only two reasons for that-- either Mumbo's communicator had broken somehow, or the connection had gotten blocked. But, there should be no way for either to have happened. "Did something happen to it?"

Mumbo held up his silver banded arm. "No, it's right here." He looked a bit confused as well now. Had he somehow not known how much everyone was freaking out? Or was this some kind of sick prank? If so, it certainly wasn't funny.

But Grian didn't care much. He was too happy about his friend's return to be upset. Three months without seeing someone will make one not care so much about the 'how' or 'why.' All that matters is the 'what.' And when that 'what' is a friend's sudden reappearance after three months, who needs an explanation?

Grian stood there for just a moment longer, happy tears streaming down his face. After a minute he remembered: The other Hermits needed to see Mumbo again! He turned to the exit. "Mumbo, let's go call a meeting with everyone else, they need to see you."

Mumbo nodded in agreement. "Okay," he said, grinning. "But... Ah..."

Grian glanced back, confused. "Yeah? What's up?" What could be wrong?

The redstoner rubbed his neck sheepishly. "I _may_ have broken my elytra..." He chuckled in embarrassment.

Grian shook his head, laughing. "Mumbo, you spoon," he chuckled. He quickly walked over to his enderchest and dug through it, pulling out an extra pair of wings and rockets. He threw them over to Mumbo, who strapped them on. He thanked Grian, and the two made their way outside.

Right before they took off towards the shopping district, Grian remembered something. "Oh, Mumbo," he started, turning to his friend. "How was your... _project_... going?"

Mumbo stared at Grian with a blank expression for just a moment, then Grian's question seemed to register in his head. "My... My... Oh- Yeah, my project. It's going... It's going well, yeah." He seemed to shrink into his skin a bit. "Let's go," he said quickly.

Grian cocked his head questioningly at Mumbo's odd reaction, but his smile quickly returned. He must've been having a hard time with it. Whatever _'_ _it'_ was. And he must've been to proud to ask for help, the moron.

Grian leapt up from his spot and rocketed elegantly up into the air. "Yeah, let's," he said as he watched the hermit fumble to take off. "We need to call the others to the shopping district." Still in the middle of the air, Grian pulled up his wrist and typed out a message.

**<** **Grian** **> ** **Guys** **can** **you** **meet** **me** **outside** **of** **the** **town** **hall**

He was about to close the screen from the other Hermits' responses-- they were inevitably bound to be rather negative and wary because of the last time Grian called a meeting-- when his communicator chimed with a message that caught his eye.

**<** **MumboJumbo** **> ** **experienced** **kinetic** **energy**

Sure enough, upon looking up from his wrist, he saw his friend's items strewn across the floor. Mumbo must've flown into a tree. It hadn't even been five minutes. Grian grinned as he swooped down to collect Mumbo's items. Mumbo hadn't changed.

Grian realized how much the other Hermits would freak out upon reading that. He chuckled to himself. _Well_ _,_ he thought. _We_ _had_ _to_ _tell_ _them_ somehow.  
  
  



	5. ~Chapter Four~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> :)

Just a few moments after Mumbo suffered his death, all of the Hermits were yet again gathered, this time in front of the unused Town Hall.

Ah, yes. The Town Hall. The mayoral campaign was yet another thing that was set aside with Mumbo's disappearance. He was, after all, the entire reason it had existed in the first place. The diamond thrown had remined unoccupied, only changing when someone would purchase a plot of land in the Shopping District and add to it.

It was majestic and large; a luminous blue glow shone, illuminating the Hall as the the sun beamed down on the throne through the opening. It towered over the Hermits, enticing and regal. Certainly a sight to behold, it was quite a shame it had never gotten to be used. It was also, according to Scar, at least, delicious. Grian didn't dare try it, however.

Grian leaned against Mumbo's support column as he surveyed the other hermits. An excited buzz hung about the Hermits as they chattered amongst themselves. They were constantly glancing at Mumbo, who seemed a bit uncomfortable. He was smiling sheepishly as he greeted everyone.

The moustached man, after dying, had rematerialized back on the spawn island, rather than his base. Grian had to admit, he was a bit surprised that his friend had somehow managed to not die over the three month period he was gone for... Grian had also not yet gotten Mumbo to spill what he was doing for the time he was absent.

Hopefully that would change in just a moment, as everyone's communicators chimed with a message, filling the air with earsplitting rings that just barely didn't sync up. Grian raised his arm and tapped the screen, showing a message from X.

Guys can you turn your attention to the front of the town hall

After a moment, another popped up, sending another ddddddiiiiiinnnngggg of chimes through the air.

And quiet down

Grian did as he was told and looked to the front, where Xisuma and a very embarrassed-looking Mumbo stood. Soon, the chatter had died down and everyone was silent as they waited for Xisuma to speak.

"Okay, everyone," X started. "As you all know, Mumbo Jumbo here is back after being gone for quite a bit."

All of a sudden, the air filled with noise again. Shouts, a few cheers, you name it. Grian couldn't help but unsuccessfully attempt to stifle a giggle as X tried to calm everyone down, to no avail. He seemed to be saying something, but from where Grian stood, he couldn't make it out. Mumbo, standing right next to X, pursed his lips as the noise adamantly refused to die down.

Grian watched X as he raised his arm to type something into his communicator. No doubt it was another message telling everyone to just shut up. But he didn't send any message out, as he was interrupted by a voice cutting out across the talk. "Guys!"

It was forceful and loud, shocking the Hermits into silence. Not recognizing exactly who it was, Grian immediately looked at Doc, assuming it to have been him. But Doc seemed just as confused as Grian as he stared at... Mumbo. Grian turned to him as well, eyes wide in surprise.

The redstoner stood up straight, clearly having just shouted. That shout was Mumbo? Grian was a bit confused-- that was rather unlike his friend. A moment of complete silence followed, the only noise being the distant squawking of a chicken.

After a minute, Grian spoke up. Cocking his head and folding his arms, he asked, "Mumbo?" Though quiet, his voice rang out over the crowd, attracting his friend's attention. Mumbo glanced back at Grian, then swept his view across the crowd, seemingly just noticing the stir he had caused. A look Grian couldn't make out passed over his face as he seemed to relax. A small, embarrassed smile formed on his face as he rubbed his neck. Well, Grian thought absently. That was interesting. 

He couldn't decide what it was, but something felt... off... to Grian. Perhaps it was Mumbo's disappearance, then him coming back like nothing had happened, or it was his sudden change in attitude, if only for a moment. Whatever it was, it confused Grian. But, Mumbo had been working on 'a project', and from what Grian had inferred, it had not been going well. He must be tense from stress. Grian made a mental note to talk with him later. For now, however, he simply stood there, waiting for the rest of the meeting to commence. 

"Hi," Mumbo started after a few moments of uncomfortable silence. He was answered with a chorus of 'hello's, though they were rather muffled and quiet. "It's been a while, apparently." He glanced around, finding Grian and locking eyes with him. "Three months, is that right?" He looked away as he said that, still speaking to the entire crowd, but Grian could tell the question was directed towards him. He gave a nod, and Mumbo flashed a thumbs-up, for only Grian to see. "Yeah, three months," he confirmed.

Grian heard muttering from next to him. It came from Iskall, who had just walked up to the brit. "Gone for three entire months, barely any notice, and he just comes back like it was nothing," Iskall complained under his breath. "How didn't he realize anything? Completely ignorant." Grian's friend fell silent, crossing his arms. Grian didn't say anything back, but thought about what Iskall had said. So he noticed it, too, he thought to himself. Not that it was hard to ignore or anything; Grian just didn't expect anyone to say anything about it. 

Meanwhile, Mumbo looked like he might melt into the floor. "Yeah, I was working on a project..." He kept saying that, not elaborating. It was not the most convincing speech. After a few awkward moments of this, Xisuma, who had hopped in with the rest of the Hermits, walked back up to the front. His voice sounded a bit taut as he said hastily, "Okay, I think we're done here, everyone you can disperse, go back to your business-" False, who was closest to the admin, opened her mouth to protest, but a strained glare quickly made her change her mind. X murmured something to Mumbo that Grian couldn't quite make out, and the redstoner nodded and walked into the Hall, followed by X, further adding to Grian's intrigue. 

A few minutes later, the Hermits had mostly dispersed. Bdubs and Doc had wandered off to argue about something or other, Scar went back to his base to work on his drill, and Stress and Cleo walked off, talking about something Grian couldn't make heads or tails of. Grian and Iskall were the only two who stayed put. They stood beside each other in pure silence before Grian couldn't take the quiet anymore.

That had been what he had hated most about Mumbo's absence. The silence. Mumbo was easily Grian's closest friend on the server-- of course, he was friends with everyone, but he was definitely closest to the suited redstoner. So, his absence really shook the builder. He had been very alone. Of course, not literally, but he had mostly confined himself to his base and stayed isolated for days on end. Grian had always preferred excitement and noise, even if it was just filler. He never liked the quiet. The still, deafening, suffocating quiet that smothers you until it-- or you-- are broken. And that kind of quiet, the quiet that comes with loss, is hard to break. 

So, when Grian had been standing around, twiddling his thumbs for a few moments too long, he spoke up. "So, Iskall," Grian started, turning to his friend. "how ya feeling about all this?" 

The swede thought for a moment before answering. "Well, earlier I thought you were crazy," he admitted bluntly. He stared straight ahead, not looking at Grian. "But now it just feels a bit strange." He turned to Grian now. "Of course, I'm definitely excited." Iskall clearly wasn't lying. His eyes shone with exhilaration-- no suspicious-sounding words could hide that. "Not every day your friend comes back from the dead," he joked, a cocky grin spreading over his features.

"Quite literally," Grian agreed with a chuckle. He turned back forward, where Mumbo and Xisuma were leaving the Town Hall. "Speak of the devil." The two walked up to Mumbo, as X had flown away on his elytra before they got to him. 

Mumbo opened his mouth to say something, but Iskall cut him off. "Hallo, Mumbo," he started. "We haven't gotten a chance to talk yet, have we?" Iskall had a point. Earlier, with everyone there, no-one was able to really get any good conversations in. Of course, Grian had been able to chat with him before-- and X had just talked with him for a good bit in the Hall-- but no-one else had gotten any time. 

So, while he had been intending on prying and asking the brit what he had been talking about with X, Grian decided it would be best to leave the two be. He could always get another chance. He pulled his elytra over his shoulders, and took out a few rockets. "Well, I'll leave you guys to it. See you later." Mumbo looked like he wanted to say something, but Grian ejected himself from the area before he could do anything.

Minutes later, Grian arrived at home. He did something he hadn't done in a long time. He pulled out a shovel and began to dig. He dug for hours and hours until he had a symmetrical hole on the opposite side of where his first lay. Stepping back, wiping sweat from his forehead, he grinned. It had been a long while since he had done this. It felt good. Especially now that he didn't have to feel guilty for enjoying himself anymore. 

Grian was happy.


	6. ~Chapter Five~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hehe :>

It was getting late. Grian had several arrows sticking out of various limbs, and he was pretty sure he had _at least_ a half-dozen spider bites. Clearly, he had not lit the place up well enough. He checked his inventorial pouch and was glad to see he had a few spare torches, which he dotted around the area. It didn't help with the preexisting monsters that had already come out, but it _did_ provide a bit of light, and for that Grian was grateful. It's hard to build when it's impossible to see what it actually looks like.

The moon hung in the sky, casting a weak glow over the area. Along with the stars, it illuminated Grian's figure as he stood, his hair ruffled and his eyes baggy from fatigue. Having worked for the last few days straight, Grian was rightfully very tired. What's worse, he heard the shrieking of phantoms circling overhead. When was the last time he had slept? He couldn't really remember. The determination of building had kept him running for the last few days, and he had hardly thought about sleep.

The brit realized that he had also not gone to visit Mumbo since he had returned either. Grian decided that he would do that... In the morning, that is. He brushed off his hands and stepped back from his work. Digging, as Grian found, is exhausting, especially when the tnt supply has run out. Quite a few broken tools lay around, discarded as he finished with them. Grian gathered his various shulker boxes and materials and threw them into his pouch to be dealt with later. He made his way through his mansion and to his room, where he clambered into his bed. In a matter of minutes, he had drifted off into one of the first peaceful sleeps he had had in a good while.

The next morning, Grian got out of his bed as usual. He grabbed some golden carrots from his chest and nibbled on one as he pulled on his elytra and other gear. Making his way to the front of his mega-base, he pulled put a few rockets and shot into the air. He sailed over the jungle, staring down to find Mumbo's base. It hadn't changed too much since the last time Grian had visited, but it was clear that Mumbo was making up for lost time. Something Grian noticed, however, was that Mumbo had seemed to have slighy steered away from the ruined theme. It was too bad; Grian had rather liked it.

Instead, little spots of iron and white concrete had begun to form along the edges, reminiscent of Mumbo's very bright and mechanical base from last 'season', on the other side of the 'Season Portal', as Xisuma had called it.

But, Grian wasn't one to judge, and he flew into the center of it. Looking around, there wasn't a sign of the Hermit. Where could he be? Grian ran over the possibilities in his mind. He eventually came to the conclusion that his friend was _probably_ at his industrial district.

So, after many wrong turns and somehow managing to arrive back at his own mansion, Grian finally made his way to the industrial district, where he, to his relief, found a very tiny, very flustered Mumbo Jumbo. Grian was about to swoop in to greet his friend when he heard a crack, and suddenly he went pummeling towards the ground at full speed. "Ack!" he screeched, his limbs flailing wildly in the air. He must not have checked how bad his elytra was. Come to think of it, he had been using it a good bit over the last coup-

Grian crashed face-first into the ground with a crack as he felt a sharp pain in his neck and woke back up in his bed.

**< Grian> fell from a high place**

He glanced around at the familiar interior of his room with a groan. Grumbling, he dug out an extra elytra and rockets from a shulker box he had lying around in case of emergencies. The Did You Die boxes from before crossed Grian's mind for just a split second and Grian let out a chuckle. A small part of him wanted to start those up again; they were fun.

After another ten minutes of searching for Mumbo's district, he finally arrived, swooping down gracefully and landing-- on his feet, this time-- right in front of Mumbo, who stood atop a complicated-looking redstone build. He gazed upon the circuitry with disdain.

"Hey, Mumbo," Grian laughed. He was still somewhat embarrassed about earlier but pretended it never happened. "What are you working on?"

Mumbo jumped a bit; apparently he hadn't noticed Grian's presence. "Oh, hi, Grian," he said quickly, turning to the Hermit. His hollow voice made it clear that he was distracted by his machine. "I'm working on a chorus fruit farm. Something doesn't seem to be linking up correctly, though. This observer _should_ be detecting when the plant grows, but it doesn't seem to be doing so." He folded his arms as he stared at the contraption.

Grian nodded slowly, pretending he knew what Mumbo was talking about. He _wa_ s trying to be more redstone-savvy this season, but he was nowhere near even understanding his friend's machinery. However, as he glanced around at the mess of reds and grays and purples, he noticed something that even he could tell was off.

"Hey, is that observer backwards?" The instant he said it, he felt stupid. It was probably some kind of fancy redstone circuitry. Some kind of double-twist, zero-tick magic redstone torch piston- Grian didn't know where he was going with that. "I mean, that's coming from me, with limited redstone knowl-"

Mumbo cut Grian off. "Huh? Where?" He ran his eyes over his machine warily. Grian pointed to where he meant. An observer had it's light bit facing towards the plant, and its face was staring right at the trail of redstone dust leading towards the rest of the machine. Mumbo stared at it blankly, as if he didn't register what Grian was trying to say. "What?"

 _Of_ _course_ _it's_ _intentional_ _,_ Grian ridiculed himself. Even so, he finished his thought. He'd sound even more silly if he just left it at that. "Aren't the eyes supposed to look _at_ the plant? If it's supposed to be detecting it."

A moment of silence ensued, the two of them standing awkwardly. Mumbo stared at the observer, his brow furrowed, while Grian spaced out, twiddling his thumbs. Out of the blue, Mumbo burst out into laughter beside Grian. This spooked the brit, and he jumped. "What!?" Grian's voice squeaked as he yelped.

Mumbo shook his head, still laughing. "I would never have thought I'd need _y_ _our_ help with a farm. You're right; it's definitely backwards." The brit quickly made his way across the contraption, stepping over spots of dust and being careful not to trip over extended pistons, to the observer, which he quickly turned around. He came back over to Grian. "Thanks for that."

Grian raised an eyebrow. It wasn't like Mumbo to just _forget_ how redstone worked. "Mumbo, are you okay?" His voice rose in amusement as he crossed his arms, but it betrayed a hint of concern for his friend, even if it _was_ relatively unreasonable.

The redstoner sputtered over his words as he replied. "What? Why?" Now that Grian noticed it, Mumbo looked a bit out of shape. His hair was frayed and unbrushed and his suit was covered in dirt and the magic dust. He looked down at his clothes and attempted to brush it off, but ended up smearing more redstone dust on his suit. He looked up quickly, saying quickly, "Yeah, I'm fine."

Grian nodded slowly. "Mumbo, when was the last time you slept?" This caught the brit off-guard. He looked up quickly at the sky. Grian heard Mumbo mumble under his breath, _What day is it again...?_ "Mumbo-!" Grian couldn't really talk, seeing as he had stayed up for a few days straight, but at least he had slept last night. Mumbo, obviously, had not. And Grian didn't even know how much sleep he was getting while he was... wherever he was. 

"Okay, okay. I need sleep," Mumbo conceded, rubbing his neck. He paused for a moment. "...as soon as I finish this farm." He chuckled, but trailed off as he turned back to his machine. "Anyway, thanks for the assistance. Oh, by the way, I stuck your items in a chest over there." He distractedly pointed in the direction of a small chest sitting on the ground.

Grian wasn't done with Mumbo yet. "What have you been doing, anyway? What was your _project_?" He hadn't gotten an answer yet, but was hopeful this time. Maybe he'd have caught Mumbo off-guard and he'd share what his big secret thing was. Unfortunately for Grian, this was not the case as Mumbo just shrugged. 

"Oh, it's just a thing I'm working on. Got a bit caught up on it." The brit tried to cover his tracks, but failed as Grian continued to pry.

"Can I see it?" Grian asked this with a hopeful expression on his face. Come on, why couldn't Mumbo show him?

Mumbo shook his head. "No, it's a... it's a secret. A surprise, kinda. Maybe? Doesn't matter, you aren't getting to it." He narrowed his eyes jokingly at the Hermit. "Especially not if you have any root vegetables on you."

Grian laughed. "Nope." Apparently he wasn't getting answers today. Soon, though. Soon he would. Another thought hit him. "Oh yeah, and what's up with your base? I thought you were going for the ruined theme this season." 

Mumbo shrugged. "I'm not sure, I just wasn't liking how it was turning out. Decided to try something new." He raised an eyebrow. "What, do you not like it?"

Grian shook his head quickly. He didn't want to appear to be criticizing his friend's work. "No, I do. But ' _new?_ ' Didn't you do that last season?" He tilted his head inquisitively as he asked Mumbo, waiting attentively for an answer. 

But, after another shrug and a dismissive, "I guess I just can't help it," from Mumbo, Grian gave up. The moustached man would keep his secrets for another day. So, he glided dramatically down from the machine, grabbed his stuff, and flew back up to Mumbo's level. "Alright, I'm going to go; I have some work to do. But make sure you get some sleep tonight!" Grian grinned as he waved and flew off. He _did_ have some work to do, and that was to make a new shop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter over and out!
> 
> Heh, don't expect all these chapters to come out every day-- this is just my stock I'm going through at the moment. I'm not THAT good, hah!


	7. ~Chapter Six~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock Grian 2.0

Grian stood back to admire his work. Before him stood a tall townhouse-like building. Mostly made of sandstone and brick, it was a perfect replica of the one he had created in the prior season. He dusted his hands off as he looked up at his new shop. Well, not exactly _new_ , per se, but new for this season. As he stepped back, a prideful grin spread over his face. The process had been a lot simpler, as he had already done it once before. Even so, he felt a great satisfaction in finishing the build.

It had taken him quite a bit to collect the materials he needed, and the entire process had taken Grian two days from when he had begun to get everything he required to finally finishing the build. All he had left to do was work on the doorbell and entrance mechanism. While working with noteblocks was fun it was also extremely difficult to get the timing _just right._ Additionally, he needed to gather a bit more redstone-- a trip to Iskall's redstone shop would be necessary. 

A tap on his shoulder jolted him out of his trance and he spun around to see Scar standing right behind him. The Hermit had since changed back into his wizard costume, minus the fake beard this time. The little star stitched to the top of the hat bobbed up and down as he stepped back to give Grian some room. Folding his arms, he started, "Well, well, well; seems Sherlock Grian is back in business."

The brit chuckled, as that was exactly what he had been doing. He had been recreating his old Sherlock Grian headquarters from the last season. Grian had even put his detective outfit back on. "Yep, I am," he said with a cocky grin and wink. "Got a new mystery that needs solving, and who better to do it?"

Scar shook his head with a laugh. "Glad I'm not the target of your detective skills this time. Though you also get no cookies, so..."

Grian remembered the shenanigans of The Jangler from the last season. It had turned out to be Scar himself, which Grian had discovered with the help of Doc and Ren. He suppressed a chuckle as he reminisced about the events of last season. There were so many good memories; so much excitement. The brit was glad that Xisuma had brought him through the portal that had brought him here. He certainly felt more comfortable here than he had in his late place of residence. Poultry Man, the Salmon Ghost, Area 77 and the hippies...

Scar gave an exaggerated shrug and continued, bringing Grian back out of his own thoughts for the second time. "So, what are you investigating _this_ _time_ _?"_ The Hermit exaggerated the last two words in a jokingly-exasperated tone. 

Grian's smile became less of a joking one, and more determined as he explained his intention on finding out what Mumbo's 'project' was. "He can't keep a secret from Sherlock Grian for long!" Scar nodded along thoughtfully. 

"Ooh, sounds like a good mystery," he said, nodding in approval.

Grian opened his mouth to say something else, but was disrupted by the feeling of something brushing against his leg. Looking down, he saw a gray tabby cat rubbing against him. It let out a little _mew_ as stared up at him, amber eyes glistening innocently _._ Scar quickly bent over and scooped the cat into his arms. "Oh, hi, Jellie! I was looking for you," he cooed as Jellie began to purr. Scar looked back up at Grian and said, "Sorry bout that; she ran off earlier. Couldn't find her for the life of me."

"No, it's fine," Grian said, brushing off some cat hair that had gotten on his pant leg. "I'm just a bit furry now." He stood back up. "So, anything else you need? Any other mysteries needing solving?"

Scar shook his head. "Not that I can think of at the moment... Actually, Grian..." He paused for a moment before continuing. Whether this was to phrase his next thought or for pure dramatic effect, Grian had no idea. "I'd like to offer my services to Sherlock Grian." The Hermit raised an eyebrow and smiled at Grian. "Mind of I join you as a fellow detective this time?"

Grian thought for a moment. He was slightly taken aback by that, having not expected Scar to ask to team up. Additionally, Grian had been planning to go solo. However, he _could_ use a partner, especially if he actually wanted to figure out what Mumbo was working on... Grian stuck his hand out. "Glad to have you on my side this time, Jangler."

Scar shifted the now-asleep Jellie to one arm and shook Grian's hand with the other. A cocky grin spread across his face. "Great!" As he dropped the builder's hand, he glanced up at the sky, which was beginning to turn a warm orange. "It's getting a bit late..."

Grian looked up as well. The sun had begun its creep back down the horizon, casting a warm glow over the shopping district. Grumbot shone a cool blue, in stark contrast of the sky around Him. Grian made a mental note to visit Him-- it had been nearly a week since Mumbo came back, and Grian hadn't yet checked up on the bot to see how He was doing. He turned back to Scar. "Yeah, it is, isn't it? Do you want to meet up in the morning, to discuss... Well.... Detective stuff?" The Hermit wasn't too sure himself what would actually be happening. But, he supposed, that was what meetings were for.

Scar nodded. "Alright, sounds good. See you then, partner. Now, I'm going to go sleep." He turned and walked away back to his base, still holding the cat. Grian turned back to his build. He'd sleep as well... Right after he finished the house's doorbell.

\---

The doorbell mechanism ended up taking longer than expected. Having not lit up the area surrounding his shop, Grian also suffered quite a few run-ins with creepers and other nightly horrors. By the time he had finished, the sun was already beginning to show its face in the sky again.

So much for sleep.

Grian quickly made a trip back to his mansion to grab a few things for the meeting. A notebook and pen were his top priorities, but he also ended up also taking some snacks. Snacks are always needed for a good meeting, after all.

Flying back, Grian looked down upon the shopping district. Grumbot stood proud in the middle of the ocean, reminding Grian to come visit Him later. He passed over Iskall's redstone shop, the red orb of redstone glowing brightly. And there, right on the opposite coast stood Grian's shop, carved into another hill, just like the previous season. Swooping down and landing in front of it, the brit noticed something off about his building. A window was broken. What was tha-... He saw something shift inside of it, then Scar's head poked out. Grian let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. What had he been worried about? Who else could it have been? Or _what_ , for that matter.

Scar waved to him and disappeared back into the room. Shaking his head, Grian pulled out a few rockets, then shot through the window. He didn't have a chance to slow down and crashed into a bookshelf on the wall. It appeared that he would not be making a dignified entry. "Ow..." He stood back up, rubbing his shoulder. He haphazardly stuck some books that had fallen out back onto the shelf then turned around to see Scar stifling a laugh. Grian rolled his eyes and Scar let out a snort. He immediately straightened, plastering on a mock-serious face. "So, Grian, what exactly are we discussing today?"

Grian pulled out his notebook and pen. he placed it down on the table between the two friends, opening to a page on which he had written:

**_Mysteries to solve-_ **

_**•Mumbo's -** _ _**secret-** _ **_project_ **

Grian had scribbled out the word 'secret.' That made it sound too much like he and Scar would be prying. After all, it was just a harmless investigation. Which might involve some snooping. And some breaching of Mumbo's privacy. And possibly- Hm, maybe the two would be prying... just a bit. Eh, nothing anyone could ever do here could ever be hidden for long. It would just be a matter of time anyway before someone found it out. Better to simply speed up the process. Grian just hoped that Mumbo wouldn't-

"So, have you thought of anything else? Any other mysteries?" Grian quickly started talking to stop thinking too hard about the repercussions of his and Scar's mission. Scar shook his head 'no' and folded his Jellie-less arms. 

"Nope, just that one," he confirmed. "Though we might have to add Jellie to the list if she doesn't stop _running off for hours on end._ I haven't seen her all morning!"Scar and Grian shared a laugh, but it trailed off as an uncomfortable silence hung over the two. Scar rocked on the balls of his feet and Grian just stood there, both silent, for a moment before Grian grabbed a few loaves of bread out of his pouch. He handed one to Scar with a shrug, who took it and broke off a piece. The two ate in silence until they had finished their snacks. 

"Well, it's been a nice meeting-" Scar started.

The sudden noise made Grian jump. "O-oh, yeah." He laughed a bit, embarrased. The two had gotten literally nothing done in the time they had been there. He had a feeling that the two were missing something, but he just couldn't put his finger onto it. Surely it was important, right?

"See you around." Scar made his way to the window to jump out, but Grian had a sudden realization.

"Oh, Scar wait."

Scar turned back around. His hat got stuck on the inside of the window frame, so the star dangled between the Hermit's eyes as he said, "Yes?"

"We have to figure out a time to start the investigation!" _That's_ what it was. It's important to know when to begin the actual research. Scar stepped down from the window, realization shining in his gaze. 

"Ah, so _that's_ what this meeting should be for." He thought for a minute, moving his head in miniscule amounts and his eyes stared straight through the wall, as if he were planning things out in his mind. Which, he probably was, seeing as he said next, "How about we meet up in three days? That way we have enough time to prepare, but we can also jump into things soon." 

Grian nodded. That sounded like a good plan. He _did,_ after all, have a few things at his base he was working on. Some snow was still managing to stick to his roof, so he had to fix that. He could think of countless other things to keep him occupied, but that wasn't exactly needed at the moment. "Sounds good," he said, flashing a thumbs up. He watched as Scar pulled his elytra back on-- it was a good thing Scar hadn't jumped out before, or he would've been dead before he even realized why-- and flew off. 

This was going to be fun. 

\---

As Grian went to go home, he noticed Grumbot for the third time. He supposed that this would be as good a time as any to check in on his and Mumbo's robot. Flying over, he recognized a familiar figure standing on the platform, at Grumbot's base. It was the moustached man himself, Mumbo Jumbo. Grian swooped down and landed next to the brit. "Hey, Mumbo," he said cheerfully. "How are you?"

Mumbo had been looking down at a slip of paper that undoubtedly came from Grumbot with a somewhat sour expression on his face. Apparently Grian had startled him, because the Hermit jumped nearly a foot in the air and turned to Grian. "Oh, hi Grian; didn't see you fly in. Oh, I'm alright but I've got to go work on something talk to you later byeeeeeeeeee-" By the time Mumbo had finished, he was already a ways away from Grian. _Well that was weird,_ Grian thought. He shrugged. It's also Mumbo, so that wasn't completely abnormal. Grian noticed the slip of paper that Mumbo was holding on the floor. The redstoner must've dropped it in his rush to leave. 

After a moment's contemplation, Grian bent over to pick up the paper. One answer wouldn't hurt, right? And it wasn't like Grian knew what Mumbo had asked, so the words would be pretty much meaningless. But, Grian suddenly wanted to know _really badly_ what the Hermit had asked when he read the slip. Because in big letters just one word was written on the answer sheet. 

_"NO."_

Grian looked back up at the bot, who was staring calmly back down at him. What had Mumbo asked? And there was no way of knowing how forceful this was, as Grian hadn't seen Grumbot's face as the message came out. For all he knew, Mumbo could have been asking if he should have mushroom stew for dinner that night. But, then again, Mumbo didn't seem very happy with the answer. Was Grian missing something? He felt extremely curious. Almost reflexively, he pulled the notebook back out. He scribbled down his newest mystery underneath the prior one so the list now read:

**_Mysteries to solve-_ **

_**•Mumbo's -** _ _**secret-** _ **_project_ **   
_**•Mumbo's question to Grumbot** _

Grian stuck the answer sheet into the notebook as evidence and stuck it back into his pocket. Being a detective was certainly exciting. But, he _had_ come to say 'hello' to his robot friend-son-thing, so he pulled out a diamond on which he had scribbled:

_"Hello, Grumbot. How are you?"_

His handwriting was atrocious. It wouldn't be out of the question that he was the only person in the universes that could understand it. He was lucky that Grumbot was a sort of supercomputer and could easily decipher the scribbles he called letters. After a moment of thought, Grumbot sent out a response, his face remaining neutral.

_"I AM ALRIGHT."_

Well, that was something, at least. It wasn't very informative, but at least Grumbot seemed to be in good shape. Grian smiled up at the robot, and he could've sworn he saw a hint of one flicker on the bot's screen as well, if just for a second. It seemed that He was gaining more sentience.

Or Grian was simply going crazy. That was also a possibility.

Grian took some rockets out of his pocket. He had done what he had come to do; it was time to go. The sun was still high in the sky, so Grian would be able to get a fair share of work done. He could come back later to see Grumbot again and have a chat. For now, it was time to return to his mansion. 


	8. ~Chapter Seven~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ooo look Promise writes a Scar chapter

Scar's POV-

Scar hopped out the broken window to Gr- _Sherlock_ Grian's house. Opening his elytra, he soared up into the sky. While he _had been_ planning to do other things this week, Scar supposed he had time for a bit of detective work. As he glided over the shopping district, he fondly remembered the prior season, where he had been evading the detective with the Jangler's shenanigans. The Hermit looked forward to being on the other side this time. But, if he was going to do some investigating, he would need a boost. A _magic_ boost.

In a minute, he arrived where he was heading: His old magic village. He hadn't been here in awhile; working on his massive drill was quite the project and he rarely found time to come back to the serenity of his village. As he came across the jungle, a large grin formed on his face. There waiting for him was Larry the giant snail. The large creature gave a _'_ _brrr_ _!'_ of delight as the wizard returned. "Hi, Larry," Scar greeted the snail as he smiled up at it.

Magic had its uses.

Giving a nod to his snail, Scar climbed into the snail's shell. As he stepped in, he blinked hard, as he found Jellie resting inside. He sputtered for a moment. Why was she _t_ _here_ _?_ Surely the cat knew by now that Scar practically lived at the drill at that point. In fact, he hadn't even visited his village in a good few months. Had she simply been here the entire time when she ran off? Scar felt a pang of guilt at the thought. He could have sworn that Jellie didn't think he still lived in the village.

Awakening the cat, he scooped her up into his arms and tickled her belly a bit. _'_ _Mrrow_ _?'_ The gray tabby blinked her eyes open. They shined a brilliant amber, like sunsets. Scar smiled down at her for a moment, then blinked. Something felt... off about the cat. Wait- Jellie's eyes... weren't they green?

He ran memories of her through his mind. Of course, he could never focus on her eyes in any of them. He must never have payed that much attention. After all, it's not often you question your cat's eye color. He continued his pets as the kitten snuggled up against him, falling back asleep. He stared down at her for just a moment more before shaking his head and turning his attention away from Jellie's eyes. He must simply be tired.

As if on cue, a yawn escaped the Hermit. He definitely was not as well-rested as he should be, though Scar supposed that not sleeping for longer than three hours each night for a week will do that to you. But, what with his project, how could he? At least the phantoms, the creatures of the lack of nightmares, wouldn't be after his skin. He glanced outside. The sun was still high in the sky, casting a bright glow over the jungle. The twitter of birds filled the empty silence that came with solitude, creating a gleeful and happy atmosphere, in stark contrast to the moment of murky confusion Scar had felt just a moment ago.

So perhaps it wasn't time for bed yet. Scar could probably find something to do until- Oh! Scar had completely forgotten about the entire reason he was even back here. Shifting the still-asleep Jellie to one arm, he climbed down the ladder to the next floor, where a chest sat in the middle. Opening it up, the Hermit was glad to see it was undisturbed. Inside lay three objects: A clear shard of crystal, a notebook that had obviously seen better days, and an oversized chocolate chip cookie. He took all three out, placing them temporarily into his bag.

It was time to do some wizardry.

\---

Enchanting crystals is difficult, as Scar had found. Especially for one not as adept with the practice of magic yet-- he had only begun a half-year prior, after all-- the Hermit was not all-too-great at his craft. It took a lot of energy, and the slightest mispronunciation could result in catastrophe... Scar had experienced that first-hand far too many times.

However, after a series of trial and errors, Scar finally got his desired crystal effect. This one was for sight; it would boost its holder's keenness and observation. _Or it would,_ Scar thought bitterly. _If anyone were to actually believe in it._

Magic is a fickle thing. It bends, it curves, it fluctuates. What might seem as stable one moment could throw you through a loop the next. Just as soon as you get the hang of it, there is a new rule that wasn't there before. It is also, as Scar had found out long ago, unique to each person. What worked for him, might not work for someone else. Why? Purely because magic thrives on belief. If one were to disbelieve, of course they wouldn't reap it's benefits.

Why would something that doesn't exist help you?

So, Scar didn't bother to create another matching crystal for Grian. After all, this whole endeavor-- going through the work of enchanting the crystal-- was to further the progression of the investigation, to make it go just that much quicker. But if Grian wouldn't even attempt to listen to Scar, if he wouldn't believe that the magic is real, the wizard would just stop trying to get him to. With a shudder, he remembered how casual the brit was when he threw the two crystals that Scar had given to him right into the void. That had been a solid hour's worth of work.

Scar decided not to give Grian another crystal after that.

The cookie was very important in this process. When dealing with magic, one requires sustenance. And, as it turns out, cookies provide exactly what is needed for a wizard to do his job. Scar nibbled on his as he sat upon Larry's shell, staring off at the lake. His newly-enchanted crystal hung from his neck by a string, glowing yellow, the same hue as the star dangling from his hat. With Jellie napping inside, Scar had some alone time to just sit down and enjoy the rest of the day.

The sun was beginning its descent, creeping back towards the horizon. With his magically enhanced vision he could see small details that would otherwise be missed. A small flock of parrots on the other side of the lake, chattering amongst themselves. Little salmon swimming underneath the surface of the water, weaving and twirling. It was beautiful. The wizard wondered why he didn't make one of these sooner.

Not that he'd be able to enjoy the scenery for long, as within a matter of minutes Scar felt a droplet of rainwater fall onto his lap. Then another. And another. Soon, the sky was dark and gray with clouds and he was getting absolutely soaked. Usually that wouldn't bother him, but the wizard wasn't entirely sure how his crystals reacted to rain-- for all he knew the magic could become reversed and give a negative effect instead-- and he definitely wasn't itching to find out. So, he hopped off the top of his snail and popped back inside to wait out the storm. 

A huge crack of thunder resounded in Scar's ears as he sat inside of Larry's shell, glancing through his notebook of spells. He jumped a bit at the sudden noise. He had a sudden thought and crawled down the ladder inside his snail. Jellie, who had been resting on his chest, had always been afraid of the thunder, the poor thing. Scar himself didn't like it too much either, so he couldn't exactly blame her.

However, much to his surprise, Jellie was not huddled in fear, quaking, underneath a table or in a corner. In fact, she didn't seem bothered by the thunder at all; she was still curled up on the chest. She looked up when Scar came down, greeting him with a _'_ _mew_ _'_. This was all so unlike her. She was disappearing for hours on end, she was acting different, heck, she _looked_ different. A sudden thought struck him. Was this even his cat?

He felt so stupid. How could this be Jellie? This cat was so different. But... It wasn't too different. It still looked-- almost-- the same, it still responded to 'Jellie,' it was resting on Larry's shell, Jellie's old home. How could it be another cat? Scar knew that there was only one way to be sure, however. "Jellie," he started, getting her attention. He then performed a series of whistles.

This was something he had devised a long time ago after a close call with a creeper. Jellie would, should she hear the whistle, come to Scar and circle around his legs until he whistled again. Not only did it ward off any creepers, but Jellie seemed to enjoy it as well.

When Scar whistled, the cat who was now undoubtedly Jellie immediately hopped off the chest and did as she was supposed to. It was so confusing. She acts like a completely different cat, but then is the same old Jellie when needed. He really was tired, wasn't he? He quickly whistled again to signal the cat to stop. Jellie tubbed up against his legs contentedly, purring. Another _boom_ of thunder shook the snail, but, again, Jellie had no response.

Shaking his head, Scar sat down on the chest to wait the storm out. Letting out a mew of surprise that her post had moved and resting spot had been taken, Jellie hopped onto Scar's lap instead for some more pets. The Hermit smiled down at her. At the end of the day, she was still Jellie, no matter how off she seemed.

But he just couldn't shake the firey glimmer of her eyes as she stared up at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hehe, this is a day late, but ah well!


	9. ~Chapter Eight~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I believe I can fly~  
> I believe I can touch the sky~

Scar must have fallen asleep to the surprisingly hypnotic pounding of rain from the outside, for he awoke to dead silence and a bright room. He glanced around, confused for a moment as to where he was, but quickly remembered where and why he was in his snail's shell. He stood up, stretching. Having slept in such an awkward position, he was slightly sore. Who knew that falling asleep on a chest for what Scar estimated to be about ten hours would have a toll on your back?

Nonetheless, the Hermit felt relatively well-rested, and that was good enough for him. As he climbed up the ladder to leave his snail, he looked around for Jellie, who was, slightly unsurprisingly, absent. Scar sighed. He guessed Larry wasn't to where Jellie would always come when she ran off. But, then, where _did_ she go? Scar chased the thought from his mind. He'd figure that out later, once he finished with the investigation that was already going on. Making a mental note to himself to tell Grian to add Jellie's mysterious issues to the list of mysteries, Scar climbed out of Larry's shell. The ground was mushy and muddy, and made a _squish_ noise as he landed. While the rain had stopped, it hadn't completely dried yet, and the land was still slippery and damp.

The snail gave another trill to the Hermit as he prepared to take off. Scar, not having had much to prepare, had decided it'd be best for him to continue the work on his drill. In his inventorial pouch, he had everything he needed: his crystal, some shulker boxes full of various useful items, some rockets, and his spellbook-- just in case he could use anything from in there to help the investigation. Scar was taking this seriously; he and Sherlock Grian were going to solve this case no matter what.

He was about to pull out a few fireworks out when he felt a tap on his shoulder. Whipping around, he expected it to be a zombie that had managed to find a helmet to slip on and avoid the sun, and punched it in the face reflexively. However, while the figure _did_ have a helmet, this wasn't a zombie looking for its next meal.

Xisuma stepped back quickly as Scar's fist met his bee helmet. Luckily, the protection prevented him from getting hurt, but it seemed to have surprised the Hermit as he yelped uncharacteristically. "Oh, sorry, X! I didn't realize that was you," Scar apologized, grinning sheepishly and rubbing his neck. Woops. He hadn't meant to punch his friend in the face, even if X hadn't actually gotten hurt. The Hermit was curious as to why the admin was here. What did he want with Scar? "I was actually just about to get going. What did you need?"

Xisuma shook his head, readjusting his helmet as Scar apologized. "No need, I probably shouldn't have snuck up on you like that." He listened to the rest of what the wizard had to say and responded, "Oh, I was just flying over and saw you here. I thought I'd pop by; you haven't been here in awhile, eh?"

Scar laughed. "No, I haven't." He was about to explain why when X seemed to notice his crystal, which was still glowing brightly-- even if less noticeable-- in the sunlight. The little bee antennae on his helmet bobbled as he bent his head and looked down at it.

"I see you've made yourself another crystal," X noted thoughtfully. His eyes narrowed, inspecting it thoroughly.

"It's actually a crystal to aid eyesight," Scar explained helpfully. X opened his mouth in an 'ah' and looked back up at Scar.

"You've never made one of those. What do you need it for?"

X's tone was curious, and held none of the familiar sarcasm and mocking that all the other Hermits laced their words with when Scar spoke about his crystals. This was because Xisuma was the only other Hermit, besides Scar, who believed in his magic. In fact, X was the one who gave the wizard his spellbook in the first place, at the beginning of the season. Under the bee-suited Hermit's guidance, Scar learned the basics of wizardry and the two met up frequently to discuss new spells and improvements.

A noise from behind Scar brought him back to the present as he turned to see X stroking Larry's shell. "Hey, Lare! Good to see you," he said happily. The snail looked down at the admin, letting out a chirrup of greeting, then nuzzled the top of the Hermit's helmet lovingly. Scar grinned at the two. Of course, Larry liked Scar, but he obviously had a bias to X; and it was no surprise, as the more experienced magic-wielder was the one who brought him to life in the first place.

When X turned back to Scar, the wizard explained what he was using his new crystal for. "It's actually for an investigation. If you didn't know, Sherlock Grian is back," he started. Scar wondered what X would make out of his and the other detective's plan. Surely he wouldn't think it stupid; the fellow Hermit _had_ to also be wondering what Mumbo was hiding.

"Yes, I heard," X began. "An investigation? What for?" The Hermit folded his arms and raised an eyebrow. Scar could've sworn his eyes, partially hidden by his helmet's visor, grew a bit wider as well.

"You know how Mumbo has that _'_ _project_ '?" He waited for X to nod slowly before continuing. "Well, Grian and I are going to meet up at..." Scar trailed off, thinking. The two had decided they'd meet up again in a few days, but never decided _where_ _._ Scar pushed that out of his head, reasoning that he'd just pop over to the sherlock's house, and if he wasn't there, Scar would simply message him on the communicator.

Handy things, those were.

"...we're going to meet up in a few days to do a little... Snooping." A cocky grin spread over his face as he continued. "We're going to figure out what Mumbo is hiding."

At this the admin's smile seemed to falter. His eyes widened. "You- what?" 

Scar tilted his head in confusion. Had X misheard? Or was going to Mumbo's base illegal or something? He was somewhat taken aback by the bee-suited Hermit's sudden change in attitude. "We're going to snoop around Mumbo's base... Is that bad?"

Xisuma shook his head, making a 'no' motion with his hands. "No, no, it's not that. It's just- I didn't hear you right the first time, that's all."

Everyone knew that was a lie.

Larry broke a few long moments' worth of awkward silence with a chirp that brought the two back to reality. Looking up at the sky, Scar realized how long he really was out for the previous night. The bright sunlight he had awoken to was the nearly mid-day sunshine, and the sun was already starting to begin its crawl back down. He wouldn't have much time that day to work.

But, he decided he'd get in whatever he could. So, he pulled out the rockets and nodded to X. "Well, see you later. Are we still on for the meeting on Friday? I've got a few little things I'm working on."

"Yep," the other Hermit replied. His face lost its somewhat concerned-seeming look and was replaced by a calm, cheerful smile instead. "See you then." As Scar ejected himself into the sky, X said his goodbyes to Larry and flew off in a different direction.

\---

In a few minutes, Scar was arriving back at his drill. Still airborne, the wizard flew over the gaping hole and swooped down, aiming for the top of the drill.

He missed.

He crashed into the ground on the other side of the machine, his shoulder taking most of the blow. "Ow..." Standing up, he rubbed his arm. The Hermit was slightly surprised that he survived that, especially since he hadn't been wearing the health crystal. Oh! His crystal! Scar quickly felt the magic crystal around his neck, ensuring that is was undamaged. Luckily for him, the only visible harm it had endured was a few small dents, most of which barely scratched the surface. It was still in perfect working order. Scar chuckled a bit in relief; these crystals he enchanted seemed to be sturdier than other things. Like Scar's shoulder, for example, which was beginning to bruise. 

Whatever, he had work to do. Looking at his drill, it was very outdated. It was small, and seemed easily breakable. Scar would need to upgrade it. All he needed was a bit of iron, of metal, to make it tougher. Which, he had, right in the chest he set up nex-

Or... he didn't. And in this case, the latter was true. The wizard must've used it all up the last time he improved his drill. This called for a trip to the shopping district; if he remembered correctly, Tango had a shop specifically for iron. A quick trip there and he'd be golden. Well, iron, but close enough. Scar dug through his pockets to find a few extra rockets. Uh-oh, he was running out of those as well. He'd pick up some while he was there.

However, it seemed he wouldn't be needing the rockets, as the sky soon opened up again and rain began to pour down. Scar flinched as he was suddenly drenched, quickly removing his crystal and putting it in his pouch to shield it from the water. Instantly, his magically-enhanced vision returned to normal. Was the world _always_ this blurry and unfocused? Scar decided it'd be best to not rely solely on this; should something happen to it, or should he need to take it off again, he didn't want to be disoriented like this again. Pulling out his trident, the Hermit was once again immensely grateful for the riptide enchantment. 

He propelled himself swiftly through the blinding rain. He stared down toward the ground as he went, looking over the shopping district. As he did this, though, he didn't notice the figure of Mumbo right in front of him. The two crashed into each other, causing them to fall down through the air, their flight paths completely obstructed. Luckily, Mumbo was used to magicless sight, and reflexively threw down some water from a bucket as the Hermits neared the ground, saving them from an unfortunate death. 

Scar stood up from the second fall in ten minutes, laughing sheepishly, while Mumbo recollected his water before putting the bucket back in his bag. "Thanks, Mumbo," Scar began. "I totally wasn't looking where I was going and-" He was cut off by the brit, who had crossed his arms. 

"Yeah, you weren't looking where you were going! If I hadn't gotten that water, we'd both be dead!" He stopped talking abruptly, seemingly noticing how harsh he was being. He sighed. It was a long, raspy sigh. "Sorry for snapping at you, Scar. I was just a tad shaken, that's all." The way Mumbo said it, however, was different. His tone had lost its bark, but the bite was still there, concealed under the-- obviously forced-- apology. He sounded almost annoyed. What was up with him? He didn't seem... Scar shook his head. He was tired, probably close to death, and cold-- rain will do that. He wasn't exactly thinking very clearly at the moment. There was also the possibility that Mumbo had his own things that weren't going extremely well, and he was stressed.

Before he could say anything to dig them both deeper into a hole, a familiar bee-suited Hermit rushed up, probably having witnessed the whole thing. "Hey... Are you two okay?" Xisuma's voice was urgent as he splashed through the puddles up to the two. His antennae waved wildly in the wind, and his eyes were wide behind the visor. They darted between the wizard and the redstoner, seemingly sensing the tension.

Mumbo broke the silence. "Yeah, we're fine." His voice was still stiff however, and he kept a steady and hard gaze on Scar, his arms remaining crossed.

X nodded distractedly as he glanced in Scar's direction. The wizard shrugged, a slightly concerned-- but mostly confused-- expression painting his face. X's face immediately brightened in realization as to what had happened and he quickly walked up to Mumbo, grabbing his arm. "Mumbo, come here, I need to talk to you," he said hurriedly. Pulling him away, he turned back to Scar. "Sorry I can't chat more, see you Friday, bye!" He then pulled the brit off, saying something in a low, hushed voice that Scar couldn't make out.

What in the world was happening? Scar relayed the past few moments in his head. He was flying in the heavy rain, didn't see Mumbo, and crashed into him. They fell to the floor, but Mumbo saved them. The moustached Hermit then proceeded to yell at Scar accusingly, but then was stopped and dragged away by X.

Mumbo was definitely acting odd. He had been acting odd for awhile. Ever since that day he came back from a three-month absence-- no communication, no 'hey I'm alive don't worry about me', nothing-- Scar noticed something... off about the Brit. He couldn't quite place it, though. The Hermit just seemed to be acting strangely-- unlike himself. Could it have been all that time alone? No, it couldn't be. His personality couldn't just _change_ _,_ just like that. But Scar just couldn't shake the fact that the way his friend was acting was strange, foreign for the man. He was weird, he was concerning. He was almost...

Unrecognizable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why do I like Larry so much? I- he's a snail. He has about 2 paragraphs of content and yet he's like my favorite character in the whole AU????? Someone help.


	10. ~Chapter Nine~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Promise smashes her head against a keyboard for a few hours and hopes something comes out

Grian's POV-

Ah, what a nice day! The sun was shining, the birds-- the ones that he hadn't yet relieved of their lives, at least-- were chirping, and there wasn't a murderous creature in sight. It was the perfect day to do practically anything one would want. The only problem was, Grian had no clue what he wanted to do. Of course, he had plenty of things he _could_ be doing, but simply _didn't_ _want_ _to_ _._ The Hermit had done quite a bit of building lately, so that wasn't exactly on top of his priorities list. And a small part of him wanted to check up on Grumbot, but he just couldn't think of anything that he could talk to the robot about.

Quite frankly, the sweatered Hermit didn't exactly want to do _anything_ that day. With only a day left until the investigation, Grian was too distracted to be productive. And how could he be? He and Scar were about to-- hopefully-- find out what had been keeping Mumbo away from everyone for three consecutive months. Or, at least some sort of idea or clue. Grian's mind was too focused on that to do much of anything else.

Grian, though he hadn't been doing anything majorly productive or useful to his base or other projects, had been planning out the next day's investigation ever since he and Scar had split up. Of course, he hadn't written anything down, but his head was as good a place as any to store information.

The brit decided it'd be a good idea to stop by Mumbo's base. He had no idea about the investigation, after all; perhaps Grian would catch him there and... advise him to work on something other than his base the next day. Maybe, if his friend wasn't there, he'd do a quick rundown just to see if he couldn't find anything exceedingly obvious. So, he pulled his elytra on over his shoulders and dug through his pouch for some rockets.

And, of course, with Grian's luck he had a total of zero rockets. Wonderful. Luckily, he had quite a few stored in one of his miscellaneous shulker boxes, so in a matter of minutes he was taking to the sky, his wings spread and rockets shooting off.

As he flew, Grian reminisced about his old elytra course in the previous season. He quite missed that old thing, putting it together and, better yet, actually running it and seeing how fast he could complete it, was extremely fun. A small part of him wanted to bring the game back, but a larger and more reasonable part reminded him that he already had a ton of things going on; he didn't need to add to the list.

The brit found himself dipping and resurfacing, looping through tree branches, narrowly avoiding walls of small holes, and other stunts to entertain himself as he flew to his friend's base. He was about to fly through a particularly small gap in some trees when Mumbo's megabase came into Grian's field of vision. He couldn't help a small gasp escaping from his lips as he took an emergency landing in a tree.

Mumbo's base was completely different. It had nearly lost its ruinous feel entirely, modernized with the same materials as last season. Where was Mumbo going with this? Why had he changed his base so much? He had seemed so proud of his work; it seemed so strange that he'd just scrap it all. But, Grian wasn't one to question another Hermit's architecture, and he wasn't about to start. Perhaps he'd bring it up should he see Mumbo there, but, other than that, he would remain silent about it.

Reasoning that he was in walking distance and coukd also do to stretch his legs, Grian hopped down from the tree, landing not-so-gracefully on the ground below. "Uff," he groaned as he rose back to his feet, dusting off his knees. Grian quickly looked back down at his boots, which were shimmering with enchantment-- and real enchantment; not Scar's magic nonsense. What he noticed, however, was that a certain hue was missing from his normal boots. Sighing to himself, Grian realized why that fall had hurt so much. He hadn't given his boots Feather Falling, that was it. The brit made a mental note to do so later.

As he neared the base, something caught his eye. In the corner of his vision he caught a small blur of grays. Was that... Jellie? Running quicker, he eventually caught up to the silhouette and scooped it up. It was!

The cat let out a yelp of displeasure as Grian removed it from the floor. Her amber eyes bored into the Hermit, firey orbs fixated on Grian's own.

What was she doing _here_ , of all places? Scar had mentioned that the cat had been running off, though he hadn't known _where._ Did she come to Mumbo's base? If so, why? And if Scar had sent her, wh- actually, Grian decided he'd rather not know. Distracted, yet fondly, Grian stroked the cat's forehead. "Hi, Jel-"

Grian started to greet the cat, but was cut off by a sudden hiss. She started squirming viciously in his grasp, and with a yelp Grian let the cat go, rolling up his sleeve revealing a small-- bur very much there-- scratch. Was that... Jellie's doing? No, it couldn't be! Jellie was a sweet cat, she wouldn't purposefully attack anyone. And Grian was certainly holding her right; she wasn't in pain, so that wasn't a possibility for her sudden feistiness. The brit looked down to where the cats stood, only to find kicked-up dirt in her place. She had already run off, it seemed. Grian decided that he'd ask Scar the next day about her. Perhaps he knew what was going on.

Looking up, the sky was dimmer than Grian first thought. He should be going back home. _So_ _much_ _for_ _checking_ _out_ _Mumbo's_ _base_ , he thought bitterly to himself. But, he reasoned that it was a good idea to get some sleep before the next day. It would be big after all.

So, he pulled out some more rockets and ascended into the sky, headed back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ngl, Jellie kinda sus. Just sayin'.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, lovelies. I don't think I've made it clear enough how much your little comments just brighten my day. I love seeing all your theories! <3
> 
> See you next time, my little Readers!
> 
> Promise out!


	11. ~Chapter Ten~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Promise dumps all the tea she's been waiting to spill onto one chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, you have to read my rambling before the chapter this time? How odd. Well, the whole chapter is odd, I suppose. How so, you may ask? Well, for instance, you may have noticed that in previous chapters, there has only been one POV-- ie, the entire chapter is in Grian's perspective. For this one, however, that is not the case. I made an executive decision, as I don't want to split this chapter up into multiple parts. So, you'll just see POV indicators in various spots. Thought you all should know before you read!
> 
> Anyway, since I won't be able to say this later, thanks for coming and see you in the next one, my little readers!
> 
> Promise out!

The moment the dawn broke the sky, Grian awoke with a jolt. In an instant, he had swung his legs over the side of his bead, hurriedly grabbing a handful of carrots for breakfast. He shoved a few in his mouth, not paying attention to the flavor. He _was_ in a rush, after all, for today was the day he and Scar would-- hopefully-- figure out what was keeping Mumbo away for three entire months.

The rising sun shone upon Grian's back as he soared across Hermitcraft, his gray-purple elytra wings carrying him through the air. As he was flying, Grian realized he had no clue where he was supposed to be going. He and Scar had never discussed where to meet up. The brit chuckled sheepishly to himself as he decided to simply head over to his 'shop'; that was his best bet. As he expected, no-one was there when he arrived. After all, it was still _just_ sunrise; no-one who had gotten any sleep was really up yet. While he waited for his comrade to arrive, he started to hum a random tune, making it up as he went along.

 _"_ _Hummin'_ _a_ _song_ _..._ _While_ _I_ _wait_ _for_ _Scar_ _to_ _come_ _'long...!"_ The brit began to add words to his tune, unaware that his friend had arrived. That is, until he heard an _ahem_ from beside him and turned to see a familiar Hermit in a wizard costume standing there, a small smirk visible of his face. Grian's face immediately reddened. "Oh- sorry Scar, didn't see you there," he mumbled sheepishly, rubbing his neck.

Scar laughed. "Nah, it's okay. Entertaining, to say the least." After a pause, he clapped his hands together. "Well, shall we go?" The sudden movement sent the star on Scar's hat bouncing, and Grian noticed what seemed to be a bright yellow shard of glass hanging from his neck.

The brit raised an eyebrow. "Yes, but first- what's that you got there?" His voice twinged upwards in a playful accusation as he crossed his arms. He knew what it was before Scar even started to explain. A _'magic crystal',_ of course. And his assumption was exactly right.

"It's a new crystal," Scar explained proudly, holding up the tiny glass-crystal-thing. "I made it special for today."

"Pssshhh, okay. Magic crystal." Grian rolled his eyes at Scar and his baloney wizardry. It was so silly, but Grian was impressed at how well Scar was able to keep the act up. It must be rather draining, acting like a wizard all the time. It reminded the brit of his former life as Poultry Man, the superhero no-one wanted. He chuckled a bit to himself as he pulled a few rockets out of his pouch. "Let's go!"

\------------------

Scar's POV-

Biting back a remark about how the magic crystals were definitely real, Scar shook his head. He shouldn't waste his energy on trying to convince Grian of their legitimacy, and simply appreciate that the magic worked for him. After a moment's wait, the Hermit followed Grian into the sky as they made their way to the Moustached Man's base. Soaring over the shopping district, the wizard marveled at how much _stuff_ there was. There were the old ones, the ones that had been there since the start of the season-- Iskall's slime shop being a prominent one. There were newer ones-- Bdubs had recently opened up a custom map shop.

And there were the ones that no-one could ever forget about-- Grumbot was the first that came into Scar's mind as well as vision, for as he passed over the robot, the wizard noticed a familiar shaped figure standing at the base. Mumbo Jumbo. And neither Mumbo nor Grumbot looked happy. With his enhanced vision, Scar was also able to make out a much smaller, much furrier silhouette resting on Grumbot's body. _Is that... Jellie?_ Why would she be out there, with _Mumbo and Grumbot,_ of all people? It just didn't make sense. If he was being honest, though, nothing was making sense recently. That was part of the reason he had been so eager to help with the investigation; he felt something was off, and needed to know what it was.

Making a note to tell Grian what he just saw, Scar shot off a few more rockets to catch up. Grian must've heard the noise of the sudden acceleration, because he turned around to see Scar catching up. A cocky grin spread across Grian's face as he himself shot off just a few more to make himself go faster. _Oh, you're on,_ Scar thought with a laugh. He activated a few more, getting just ahead of the brit. The two continued like this-- each one getting just ahead of the other, cutting them off, dodging and twisting and swooping-- until they reached Mumbo's base. It was a tie. They dove in and landed, the pure glee on their faces temporarily pushing away any uncertainty in Scar's mind. That had been fun.

Of course. That was the other, the more important reason Scar was doing this.

Because it was _fun._

However, Scar's breath caught as he stepped back to see Mumbo's changed base. The base was completely different from when he last saw it. The ruined look was practically gone. The large structure in the middle, having used to have vines and moss giving it an old, tattered feel were gone. The messy cobble replaced with flat, bright concrete and iron, it was hardly recognizable. The only things that gave a hint at what the build used to be were the same waterfalls flowing down the side of the similarly-shaped building. The only feature that reminisced about the past theme of the build was the hedge harden and stone heads that had remained untouched.

"Woah... That's... Different," Scar murmured under his breath. He hadn't been specifically talking to Grian, but the Hermit standing beside him, also staring at the sight, nodded.

"Yeah. Mumbo just scrapped his ruined feel. It's too bad as well, I actually quite liked it," Grian agreed. The two fell into an awkward silence until Scar piped up.

"Oh, Grian. I saw Mumbo at Grumbot while we were flying here."

Grian turned to the wizard. "Oh really?" The brit folded his arms.

"Yeah. He seemed to be talking to him, and he did _not_ seem pleased." After a moment's pause, he added, "Jellie was there as well."

"Jellie?" Grian's eyes widened. "Why was _she_ there?" He seemed startled at the mention of Scar's cat.

Scar shrugged. "I'm really not sure; I was wondering that myself. Why would Jellie be with Mumbo? She keeps running away and acting different." He laughed distractedly. "Maybe we can investigate her next." He was half joking, but Grian nodded seriously and pulled out his notebook, scribbling down:

_**•Jellie** _

Well, Scar could only assume that's what he wrote. Grian's handwriting was atrocious, and even Scar's vision-enhancing crystal wasn't making deciphering the scribbles the red-sweatered Hermit called letters any easier. And Grian's writing seemed worse than normal-- it was quick and maybe even a bit shaky. "What's wrong? Was mentioning Jellie wrong?"

Grian shook his head as he placed the notebook back in his pocket. "No. It's just that I ran into her yesterday. Not literally," he added as Scar's face widened in worry for his cat. "but she was actually running _here._ It was weird. And when I tried to pick her up... she scratched me." The brit rolled up his sleeve to reveal a small cut on his arm. "It's not bad, but-"

"That's so unlike her," Scar finished. "Unless you picked her up wrong-- and I'm sure you hadn't-- she wouldn't ever harm anyone..." Jellie harming Grian? That, added to everything else-- the eyes, her unphased reaction to lightening-- just put it all over the top. If he hadn't done his and her little trick, the Hermit would've been sure that this was, in fact, not his cat. He'd have to talk to her later. "She's been so strange lately," Scar muttered. For a moment, Scar debated mentioning his run-in-- or, rather, _fly-in-_ \- with Mumbo, but decided against it. Maybe now wasn't the best time.

After another brief moment of uncomfortable silence, Scar turned back to the entrance of Mumbo's build. "Should we... go?" It felt a bit strange, their good mood dampened, but he supposed that the search would bring their morale up. This _was_ supposed to be fun, after all.

Grian nodded. "Yeah, let's go!" He slapped on a grin and walked inside.

Inside were a bunch of shelves on the walls, covering in various redstone trinkets, tools, materials, and other things. It looked mostly normal, mostly as it had before the... remodeling. The large nether portals still stood proudly in the center, the purple glow casting a cool feel across the room. The two Hermits stood at the entrance to the base for a moment. "Well," Grian started. "You want to take that side, and I'll go this one?" Grian pointed to one side of the room, then to the other. "We can... search the shelves, I guess?"

Scar nodded. "Sure!" Fingering his magic crystal, he walked over to his side and began to search, moving thing out of the way, looking under some objects, and the like.

\------------------

Grian's POV-

Walking the opposite direction of Scar, Grian started moving things around. However, he was a bit distracted by his own thoughts. He knew he was supposed to be enjoying this, but it was just so hard when things seemed to be going all wrong. He had been so relieved when his best friend miraculously came back, but he was acting so strange, and Jellie as well. Since when did Mumbo hide things? And just a few days before Grian, _Grian,_ helped Mumbo with redstone. If there was any situation less likely, that would be a surprise to the brit. While he absently looked around Mumbo's shelves, his mind flitted back to the events of the past few days.

Mumbo's strangeness when he first returned. Mumbo's misplacing of the observer-- though Grian had first passed that off as simply the moustached man being tired, he was beginning to be doubtful. Then there was Jellie. From his experience, plus Scar's apprehension, something was up with her too.

Or, he was thinking far too much about this.

There was also the possibility this was a prank.

Both were highly probable.

Grian pushed those thoughts out of his mind. This was supposed to be a fun investigation to find out what Mumbo's secretive secret was. He focused on his work, looking under different objects for anything he could use. He wasn't quite sure _what_ _,_ exactly, he was looking for. Grian supposed he was imagining some sort of paper with notes scribbled on it, maybe a secret lever or button. But all he found was various trinkets-- a fishing rod, some old sketches of his base prior to the redoing, some bits and bobs of redstone supplies, among other things. He brushed away some redstone dust, causing him to cough.

Grian turned around as Scar looked up from his work, calling, "You good?"

"Yeah-- some dust got into my throat," Grian confirmed, turning back. He heard some laughter followed by coughing. "Mumbo's got a lot of this stuff around, doesn't he?"

"Yeah. So messy," Scar agreed, mockingly disappointed in the brit.

They were silent for a moment, both focusing on their work, before Grian piped up, a curious grin on his face. Picking up a crumpled sheet of paper revealed a small, stone button. Grian could tell that this wasn't just for decoration. It was too random, too hidden. With a jolt, Grian realized this may be exactly what he and Scar were looking for. "Scar, c'mere! I found something!"

\----------------

Scar's POV-

In an instant, the wizard was beside his's friend, inspecting the button. "Yeah! It looks like _something_ , at least!" Getting a closer look, Scar realized that a partially-obstructed past of red dust connected to it, leading under the base. That must've been what all the dust he and Grian had found was for. "And it definitely does something, I'm just not sure what..." Could this be the answers he and the builder were looking for? And if it was, should the two find out? A wave of doubt passed over the Hermit as he realized how far he and Grian might be going. After all, Mumbo must've hidden this for a reason.

It seemed that Grian didn't share Scar's concern, because he turned to him with bright eyes. "I wanna press it. You know I want to press it _really bad._ "

"Please don't. I'm not going to lie, though. I'm surprised you didn't press it already." Scar turned around. Those words hadn't come from him. Instead, a familiar moustached man came strolling into his base, a light smirk on his face. Grian turned too, eyes widening at the sight of his friend.

"Oh- h-hi, Mumbo!" Grian quickly dropped his hand to his side. "We weren't snooping around your base!"

Scar stared at Mumbo, who looked back at him, neither of them seeming to have forgotten the events of a few days prior. In the corner of his eye, Scar saw Grian glancing confusedly between the two before shrugging. The uncomfortable moment was broken, however, by a tiny figure making her way into the room. Jellie? Scar quickly walked up and scooped her into his arms. "Oh, Jellie! Nice of you to finally make an appearance." He glanced from his cat to his friend and back down. "Did you tell Mumbo what we were doing?" His tone was light and airy, the exact opposite of the atmosphere just seconds before.

Mumbo laughed at this. "No, I found her hanging out at Grumbot earlier when I had gone to have a chat. I figured I'd find you later and return her... but it seems you're already here!"

"Yes, and speaking of 'being here', I just realized I have something very important to do back at my base so I got to go I totally am not leaving to avoid explaining anything bye Scar bye Mumbo byeeeeee-" Grian shot a few rockets into the air and flew off, screaming this back at the two other Hermits. The dramatic exit was followed by a still silence before Mumbo sighed.

"Sorry about the other day, I was in a bit of a dim mood from my project, that is _not_ going well." Mumbo rubbed his neck, not meeting Scar's gaze as he spoke.

Scar smiled. He figured this had been the case, but was glad Mumbo brought it up. "No problem, we all have those days. So how _is_ your project going, anyway?" This _was_ still an investigation, after all. Scar might as well try to learn as much as he could. Of course, he was genuinely interested in Mumbo's progress as well, this wasn't purely professional. But why not ask for the sake of his detective work anyway?

Mumbo pursed his lips in thought before answering, "Well, it's going all right. Can't say how well it is, though. It'll come together eventually, though!" Mumbo gave a rather weak thumbs up, and Scar could see clearly how much this project had been taking out of the redstoner-- he seemed like practically an entirely different person after he emerged from _wherever he had been, working on his 'project.'_

Looking at him closer, Scar noticed something else. He hadn't noticed this before then-- maybe it was his magic crystal doing its job. Staring into Mumbo's eyes, he realized they nearly matched the same hue as Jellie's but with one difference. Slicing through his irises were streaks of a metallic silver, resembling the same color of his base. Was he always like that? Scar wished again that he had payed more attention to eyes in the past-- he kept getting caught up studying them.

"Well, I think I should get going as well." Scar shook his head out. He was over thinking this; the wizard needed to take a break from all of this detective work. "Nice chat, Mumbo! I'll see you sometime!" And with that, he was off, waving back to Mumbo with one arm while holding his cat in the other.

\---------------------

M⚍ᒲʖ𝙹's POV-

He watched as Scar flew away, a light smirk dancing on his face. The silence that followed was not uncomfortable, not strangling. It was, in fact, relieving, kind. Firm but not hard. He quite liked this silence, though he knew it wouldn't last long. Without a word, he turned and walked back over to where his button lay uncovered. After quickly fixing the line of redstone, he gently pressed down his palm on it. The dust glowed a bright red and a loud noise of pistons pushing blocks around ensued. Suddenly, the floor opened up beside him, revealing a large spiral staircase.

Still smiling, he took out a torch made of the same materials that now littered the base and began his descent. His footsteps against the hard floor were the only sounds, the _thump-thump_ providing an almost rhythmic beat. The torch in his communicator-banded hand cast a warm, red glow across the stairway, though it provided little light as the floor closed back up again above him. That didn't really matter, however, as when he reached the bottom, he was met with the bright light of normal, fiery torches, lamps, and other ways of illuminating a place.

He dimmed his redstone torch and threw it back into his pouch as he stepped off of the stairway and entered the main room. Its main attraction was a large machine with two cells, connected by a pipe-looking part. A small screen which resembled one of a communicator flickered on a podium in front of it. The rest of the room was a dark gray, mixed with shades of dirty browns and mossy greens.

He walked up to and plopped down onto a couch parallel to the machine, eyeing the familiar moustached figure in one of the two cells as he did. Pushing away a few untamed bits of hair, the self-satisfied grin on his face did not falter and his amber gaze remained even with the figure's dull green one as he finally broke the silence.

"I've got to say, _Mumbo Jumbolio,_ being you is right exhausting!"


	12. ~Chapter Eleven~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Promise lays a good deal of her cards down on the table

Mumbo's POV-

Mumbo crossed his arms as he heard the oh-so-familiar sound of moving pistons and increasingly closer footsteps. Wonderful. _He_ was back. As the exact person he expected came strolling down the stairs, Mumbo grimaced. His green eyes narrowed, following the figure who looked nearly identical to him as he walked towards the Hermit.

Keeping matching his stare, Mumbo glared at him as he sat down on _Mumbo's_ couch, underneath _Mumbo's_ base. The impostor held Mumbo's stare, a cocky grin dancing on his face. Mumbo didn't say a word as the other greeted him, his tone flitting about playfully, as if Mumbo _wasn't_ a prisoner in his own home. Instead, he simply glared at him, determined not to break eye contact. After a moment, though, he finally spoke.

"Well then," the Hermit started with a sarcastic chuckle. "Why don't you... _stop being me?_ " This earned him a mocking laugh.

"You know I can't do that, Mumbie." His captor had a pretty annoying habit of spouting out nicknames for Mumbo, instead of using his _actual name._ It got on his nerves quite a bit, though he found it a tad funny that out of all the things he could be complaining about, he cared about what his captor called him.

"I told you to stop calling me your ridiculous names-" Mumbo's gaze intensified, boring into the other's own, but he held his gaze steady, matching Mumbo with a calm stare that got under the redstoner's skin. Why did the imposter have to always be so _calm_ about everything?

"And _I_ told _you_ I will do what I like, Jumbo," the one on the couch retorted. "And it's not like you call me by _my_ name either."

That _was_ correct. Mumbo rarely, if ever, called him by the name he had given himself. He rarely addressed him, and when he did he used phrases such as, 'lunatic,' or 'monster,' but if they irked the other, he wasn't letting Mumbo know, and answered to them all the same. The redstoner rolled his eyes. "Fine. I told you to stop calling me your ridiculous names, _Sage._ " Mumbo drew the name out sarcastically, eyeing the other as he did so.

"Aha, that's better." The identical person, Sage, wore a saccharine smile. "Thanks, Mumbo!"

Mumbo hated that thing with a burning passion.

After a moment of silence, Sage spoke up again. "They were close, you know." His voice was calm and smooth, as if what he had just said wasn't out of the ordinary at all. He stared at Mumbo expectantly, waiting for Mumbo to take the bait and ask what the heck he meant by _'close.'_ And, after a good minute, that was exactly what Mumbo did.

"...Fine, I'll bite. Who were close to what?" Mumbo had an inkling of an idea as to what his captor meant, but he figured he may as well get the truth... should what Sage say even be true. Mumbo had no way of knowing, and, quite frankly, didn't trust him more than he could throw him. Which was, truthfully, not very far, especially given the fact that he couldn't exactly _reach_ him. 

Sage grinned, finally breaking the stare by looking just to the side of Mumbo, off into space. "Well, a few of your friends came over. The short, feisty one and the wizard, to be exact. They looked around the base. Nearly uncovered you." His voice was annoyingly calm, like everything he just said was perfectly normal. It irritated Mumbo beyond belief, seeing his predicament. Trapped inside his own machine. With only his thoughts and-

His train of thought was obstructed by the sensation of a tiny _something_ right up against his leg. Looking down, the redstoner was met with the splotched gray fur of a cat, whom had just recently woken up from the noise. It padded up to the locked door of the cell in which it and Mumbo resided and yowled angrily at the figure outside, furiously scratching the glass as it did. Its bright green eyes were daggers as it tried desperately to escape. Carefully, Mumbo bent over and picked it up, stroking its fur gently. He sighed, his somewhat cold expression diminishing slightly, being replaced by a bit of a defeated one. The Hermit stared out at Sage, whose gaze was once again fixated on Mumbo. 

Mumbo hated the look Sage gave him. He wasn't sure what it was, but something about the slightly cocky, calm, almost joking smile the laid on his face upset him. Perhaps it was the fact that the other looked so similar, and that expression was one that Mumbo himself wore so much. It was like staring into a slightly distorted mirror... except Mumbo was on the wrong side. Neither of them said a word, the thick heavy silence between them providing more than enough context for each of the figures. The only sounds were the cat's purrs as it curled up against Mumbo. Mumbo felt a bit jealous that he couldn't be as oblivious as it, that just some pets were enough to calm down, if only for awhile.

Mumbo noticed something about his captor. A certain _someone_ seemed to be missing. "Where is she?" The redstoner asked dryly. "Your little cat." Sage was often accompanied by a small cat he nicknamed Citrus-- he really did have such odd naming procedures. She looked nearly identical to the one Mumbo himself now held in his arms, save for one distinct feature.

And she wasn't any less infuriating than Sage himself.

"Oh, the wiz- _Scar_ brought her back with him," Sage explained calmly.

At the mention of the Hermit, the bundle of fur in Mumbo's arms perked up. With a confused mew, it tried to wriggle out of his grasp, looking around to see where the wizard was. It let out another desperate meow as Mumbo clutched it tighter, looking down and murmuring, "No, Scar isn't here." The kitten let out a pitiful mrrow of sadness and sunk back into Mumbo's arms. "You really are a monster," he said, his words directed at Sage, who simply shrugged. 

"I thought you knew that already," the other replied, unfazed. This ticked Mumbo off beyond belief, how Sage never seemed to get too upset over _anything._ How he could just be so _calm_ all of the time. Often, when Mumbo got particularly bored-- it gets rather dull, being trapped in a cell for weeks on end-- he'd try to fluster Sage. To destroy his cool demeanor. It rarely worked, though, and when it did Sage would simply leave, causing Mumbo now be trapped _and_ alone. To be honest, Mumbo wasn't sure what he liked better: being by himself with little company other than the other captive, or being accompanied by Sage. Both were equally undesirable.

Crossing his arms, Mumbo opened his mouth to retort before being shut down again by the other. "Well, Mumbie, I believe it is time that I take my leave. I _do_ have some other things to do before night." And with that, Sage was gone, disappeared back up at the surface. And Mumbo was left in the sickeningly bright room, sitting against the inside of the tiny cell and wondering how the heck he ended up here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)


	13. ~Chapter Twelve~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sage origin story

**3** **months** **earlier**

It'd been a week since Mumbo retreated into the mini laboratory he had built under his base. Having left just a sign noting his absence, Mumbo hadn't surfaced in quite a little bit. Of course, that wasn't out of the ordinary, as randomly disappearing for about a week was pretty normal. Large projects were called _large_ for a reason, after all. And it wasn't like he needed to leave-- the brit had been sure to bring all the supplies he needed for his project.

And said project was... Not going too well. Mumbo had barely slept a wink since he had begun his work, and was starting to feel the repercussions. His hands and legs were shaking, and he was beginning to be rather sloppy. He could barely focus on what he was doing. And that wasn't ideal, seeing that he was working with serious redstone here.

But he was going to push through. He'd complete his project-- even if it killed him. Which he surely hoped it wouldn't, or, at least not too many times. Regaining life grows quite tedious, especially if it's too repetitive. So, Mumbo quite hoped he wouldn't be _too_ harmed in the making of this.

Of his project.

Of his cloning device.

Well... it wasn't exactly a cloning device, per se. It was more of a matter duplicating device. That's how Mumbo described it, at least. Calling it a cloning device would insinuate that it would be able to create life out of nothing, which wasn't possible. Not in any way Mumbo knew, anyway. So, Mumbo decided that it was a matter duplicating device. Or it would be, anyway, once he got it to work. Right now it was just a few chambers that electrocuted anything that went near it. Mumbo had the scorch marks to prove _that._

But he wasn't about to give up. No, he knew what he wanted to do, and he could just feel that he was _almost there._ He just had to persevere for a bit longer and he'd be golden. Plus, he had worked far too long and hard on this to give up now. The brit was invested in this now. Perhaps if he was only a day or two in the making of this he could simply give up, but not anymore. Mumbo knew that he'd passed the point of no return. He was following through with this no matter what.

Mumbo was typing furiously on a computer-like machine whose screen Mumbo had modeled after his communicator's when said communicator _dinged_ twice with two messages. They were both private whispers from Xisuma, reading,

_XisumaVoid whispers to you: Hey Mumbo, haven't seen you in a bit. Wanted to check in_  
_XisumaVoid whispers to you: I'm at your base_

Mumbo couldn't truthfully say he was upset that Xisuma wanted to speak with him. It had been a little bit since he had retreated into his base; it was only normal that the admin would want to check up on him. The brit just hoped that X wouldn't implore too much as to what he had been doing. Quickly typing out a confirmation that he'd be out soon, Mumbo walked over to a staircase in the corner of his room. 

Mumbo had designed the room to mirror his base's ruined theme. Having used materials to give it an old and run-down look, he was quite proud of his secret room. Moss climbed up the chipped, broken stone walls, ever increasing in size. The rocky floor was bumpy and uneven, with stones jutting out in random spots. Torches and lamps lined the walls, casting a bright yellow glow that contrasted the electric blue-white from the screen of the computer. In the corner stood a spiral staircase leading to his base. A stone button was set up on the wall beside it, leading to a piston-powered opening at the top. Cobwebs were thrown aimlessly into corners, adding to the ruined atmosphere. The place looked like it had been abandoned for years, except for the large brown-gray machine in the middle, which stood out enormously. 

The brit placed his palm on the button, releasing it when he heard the opening of the piston door. Running up the stairs as fast as he could, Mumbo barely had made it out before the floor closed back up. Squinting his eyes against the natural sunlight, Mumbo realized how much not emerging from his base for an entire week affected him. He made a mental note to do so more often. He also had to fix the timing on his piston door, so he didn't have to run for his life each time he tried to leave.

After rubbing the sunlight out of his eyes and regaining his posture, Mumbo noticed X standing right in front of him, jumping back with a start. "Oh- hi X," the redstoner started with a chuckle. "Didn't see you there."

But X seemed to be more interested in the fact that Mumbo had emerged from the ground rather than the fact that he appeared to have never seen the sun in his life. Peering behind the redstoner, the bee-suited Hermit said confusedly, "Did you just- What _are_ you doing, Mumbo?" His gaze flitted over to a shelf for just half a moment, leaving Mumbo wondering if X had somehow found his apparently not-so-secret entrance to the apparently not-so-secret base.

Mumbo chuckled. He was never that great at keeping secrets. Besides, X would surely find out soon enough. Before he could give it another moment's thought, he was walking over to the shelf on which he had concealed a small button. Connected to a messy line of redstone, this was the key to entering his secret lab of sorts. "Here," he began. "I'll show you as long as you don't say a word to any of the other Hermits, got it?"

The admin nodded, giving Mumbo a thumbs-up. "My lips are sealed," he confirmed.

Satisfied, Mumbo pressed his palm down on the button. The string of redstone lit up, shining bright red. Not a moment later, the sound of pistons filled the room and the floor opened up. The staircase down was revealed and Mumbo walked over to it. "C'mon, X. Down here!" Mumbo made his way down the stairs, looking back to make sure that his friend was following. He was, so when the door closed quickly up, flooding the room in darkness, Mumbo noted, "Almost there; careful where you step."

Soon enough, the two emerged into his room. The moustached man walked up to his machine and turned around, throwing his arms up dramatically. "Welcome, XisumaVoid, to my creation!"

The admin's eyes were wide behind his visor as Mumbo displayed his machine. "Mumbo, is that a-"

Nodding enthusiastically, Mumbo cut X off. "Yup. It's a matter duplication device."

Xisuma, raising his eyebrows, stared right into Mumbo's eyes, his green ones not wavering from Mumbo's own. "It's a cloning machine." Even though his tone was flat and unwavering, the brit could sense a bit of astonishment from within. He, if he was being perfectly honest, slightly expected this reaction. Mumbo didn't expect the admin to be all that pleased with his machine, knowing what had happened with Evil X. There was a reason he had never told him, after all. That, and, of course, it was supposed to be a bit of a surprise. 

For the same reason, Mumbo had never told Grian, his closest confidante, his plans. After Grian's own creations had gone a bit nuts, the sweatered hermit was forced to lock them in a closet. He surely wouldn't have agreed with Mumbo on his idea, should Mumbo have told him. But it wasn't like Grian was any bit experienced with machinery and the like, while Mumbo was. He'd be fine. 

"Not a _cloning machine_ cloning machine," Mumbo refuted, folding his arms. "I'm not creating life. I'm, ah... making artificial life?" Mumbo found himself ending the statement in a question. He couldn't explain it well-- it made sense to him internally, he just couldn't get others to understand it the same way. That and he was extremely tired and barely making sense to even himself. 

X somehow didn't seem to pick up on Mumbo's grogginess, instead rolling his eyes and walking over to the screen. "Is this what you are doing your work on?"

"Hey, I saw that," protested Mumbo as he moved over to where Xisuma was. "Yeah, it is. Like it?" Mumbo had intended to sound casual, but his urge to impress the admin, the one who usually dealt with this stuff, overpowered that and he sounded rather enthusiastic. Which he was, of course. The brit fidgeted as X looked through his series of codes, nodding as he did so. 

"Yeah, Mumbo! It's well-done!" The admin looked up and turned to Mumbo. "Not that I expected anything less."

That went... surprisingly well. Compared to his attitude before, this was completely different. Not that Mumbo was complaining, he wasn't. The moustached man was simply taken aback by this sudden attitude switch. He opened his mouth to thank X before the bee-suited admin suggested something that Mumbo was certainly _not_ expecting.

"Would you like me to give you a hand?" 

The admin grinned behind his helmet at Mumbo as he offered to help the brit with his top-secret, surprise machine. The same machine that he had just seemed to be displeased about or maybe even against. This was all too confusing. "Didn't you... not... want me to do this?" Mumbo inquired, shaking his head in confusion. 

"No, no," X said quickly. "I wasn't against the concept. I just wanted you to be careful; we don't exactly have a wonderful track record with them. I think this is a fun idea, actually, Mumbo, and I wanted to see if I could be of any use." 

Mumbo thought for a moment, then responded, in turn seeming to surprise the other Hermit this time. "No, thanks. I think I'm good to do it myself!" The redstoner grinned, showing slightly crooked teeth, as he turned away from X and towards his machine. "I've been working on it this long, I may as well see it through 'till the end." After a moment, Mumbo continued. "What, are you afraid it'll turn out like-"

The admin quickly waved his hands dismissively. "Oh, no, of course not! I have complete trust in you to not end the world, Mumbo." At Mumbo's disconcerted expression, X laughed. "Kidding. But in all seriousness, I _do_ believe you'll do well. You cracked AI in three days, remember?" Grinning, X moved to the staircase. "Well, that's all, really. I just wanted to check on you." 

Mumbo nodded. "Alright! Well, glad you seem to have enjoyed yourself," he chuckled. 

"I did," X confirmed. "And if you ever need any help-"

"I know who to message. I got it, I got it." Mumbo rolled his eyes in fake annoyance, though his grin gave away his joking intentions. "Bye, X!"

"Bye!" The bee-suited Hermit felt around for the button to open the staircase for a moment before ascending, waving as he went. After a moment, Mumbo heard the closing of a piston door and a distant, "Mumbo?"

He _really_ needed to fix that.

Pressing the button to let Xisuma out, Mumbo turned back around, digging an apple out of his inventory. The moustached Hermit had a lot of work to do yet.

\-----

**2 months earlier**

Mumbo sat back triumphantly on his couch, taking a bite out of his now infinite supply of apples. It had been an entire month since he had begun work on his project and, after all this hard work, it was finally finished. The brit had tested his project primarily on his fruits, and it worked perfectly. And it never electrocuted him at all; not since he worked out the kink that was the cause of _that_ mess. The only issue, he hadn't tried it on himself-- or any other living creature-- once yet, and he didn't exactly have anything _to_ test it on. Besides himself, of course, and while he'd surely respawn should anything _unfortunate_ happen to him, there were more problems with operating the machine on himself.

The most prominent of which being that he couldn't actually _do that._

To operate his machine, the brit had to press a few-- hundred-- buttons on the screen. It would be impossible to do so from within the cell. Mumbo had to figure out a way that he could be in multiple places at once.

Hm.....

Or perhaps he didn't.

Because Mumbo knew of one Hermit whom, if he ever needed anything, he just had to call. 

About fifteen minutes later, Mumbo was explaining his dilemma to XisumaVoid, whom had come right as soon as Mumbo had whispered, just as he had expected-- and hoped. The admin crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. "So you want me to activate the machine... with you in it. Have I got that right?"

Mumbo nodded eagerly. "Yup! I've got it all set up. I'll even talk you through it. I just need someone on the outside of the machine to actually work the code." The redstoner was very excited for this; this might be one of his biggest projects yet, or the one he was most proud of, anyway.

Of course, he loved Grumbot as well, but that redstoning had only taken a few days, and was, quite honestly, rather rudimentary. This, on the other hand, was made over the timespan of an entire month, with each little detail excruciatingly precise, the redstoner having made sure to not mess up a single line of code. Creating one robot was one thing; creating a machine that could do the same an infinite amount of times over was another entirely. Mumbo couldn't screw this up, not even a little. Not when his and the other Hermits' countless lives were on the-- admittedly quite scribbly-- line.

Xisuma was silent for a moment, before suggesting, "Why don't you just teach me how to do it instead? Just show me how to do it a few times just so I can get the hang of it. And of course we can make sure this really is working." Mumbo couldn't help but be just the slightest bit hurt that X worried that Mumbo's machine didn't work, bit it was quickly dispelled as he thought about X's proposal. Now that he thought about it, it was a good idea to have X know exactly what he was doing first, before he did it on his own. 

The brit nodded. "Yeah, let's do that." 

For the next hour, the two went through the process, cloning apple after apple after apple until X could do it on his own. At long last, the two were ready. Mumbo was practically bouncing out of his skin in a mix of excitement and nervous energy. Anticipation, he decided it was. Suddenly, the little cell he had intended to stroll calmly into was seeming very small and very trappable. Mumbo had been working towards this for a full month, but now that the time had finally come he was a bit nervous to actually do it. That seemed to happen a lot, didn't it?

As Mumbo stood, staring into the cell, X piped up from beside him. "Well, Mumbo, I think I could do this in my sleep. Are you ready?" The brit hastily nodded, not saying anything for slight concern of betraying his nervousness. He was about to step in the cell when X suddenly grabbed his arm. "Oh, Mumbo, wait. Give me your communicator; I don't know how it'd react to this machine."

Mumbo was confused. It was just a little thing-- surely it'd be fine in it? But X was probably right-- he usually was about these types of things. So Mumbo unfastened his band and handed it to the admin. And with that, he stepped into the cell. X, smiling, closed the door as Mumbo turned back around to face him. Was the cell always this small? The tall Hermit's hair brushed the top of the cell, and he began to feel mildly claustrophobic. Was this such a good idea? Now that he thought about it, maybe it wasn't...

How long had it been since he got in here? Peeking out, Xisuma was typing furiously. Had he messed up? Was something wrong? Why was this taking so long? "Hey, X," he called out, unsure if his friend could hear him through the clear glass-like material that made up the cell door. "Are you good? Do you need help?"

Apparently the door did not restrict sound as much as Mumbo had thought, as the bee-suited admin poked his head over. "Oh, I'm fine, just taking a bit longer than usual. Almost ready!" Mumbo could hear X surprisingly well for being separated by a solid wall. It was hardly muffled at all. _Almost ready._ He couldn't help but let out a nervous chuckle; all of his reservations about this came flooding back tenfold. 

However, Mumbo didn't exactly get a chance to voice them as the next thing he knew, Xisuma called out something Mumbo didn't quite catch and his whole body suddenly seemed to be on fire.

Ouch

A ringing filled his ears and the Hermit flinched. After a moment, though, it subsided along with the pain. It was silent. Almost too silent, and Mumbo was about to worry that his hearing had been damaged when X's voice travelled to him from seemingly the other side of the room. "Mumbo... I think it worked!" When X came back over to let the Hermit out, he was smiling brightly behind his helmet-- or he appeared to be, at least, Mumbo couldn't exactly see very well past the bee-like helmet. X opened the door and Mumbo quickly stumbled out, not having been so relieved to be in a somewhat open space in his many lives.

X handed Mumbo back his communicator and the two walked back over to the other cell, where a very familiar figure stood motionless, its eyes closed. Something Mumbo noticed was that his lookalike seemed to be emanating an almost orange, gold glow. How strange; nothing else seemed to do that. It appeared that Xisuma had noticed that as well, as the admin said next to him, "Hey, is it _glowing?_ "

Mumbo nodded. "I think so. I wonder why; maybe it's because it's a person and not an apple?" X seemed to tense up and Mumbo turned to him, raising an eyebrow. "What, you don't think I'm right?"

X quickly shook his head. "No, that's not it. You are probably right, actually. My point was that, uh, are we sure this will work? The most complex thing we've made was an apple-- this is an entire human. What if it doesn't work, and stays in this.... half-alive state forever?"

Mumbo hadn't thought of that, but now that he thought about it, X could be right. Or maybe not, as the second Mumbo opened his mouth to respond, the glow around the form in the cell disappeared. The two turned to it, backing up just a bit. Suddenly, the figures eyes opened, revealing amber eyelids with silver streaks. The pupils were dilated in a way that made it seem like the figure was surprised or even scared. The form's eyes settled on the two Hermits standing outside of the cell and it immediately jumped into motion. It stumbled backwards against the wall of the cell, then turned around. It then flailed forward against the cell door, evidently trying to escape, its eyes wide.

Mumbo and X stood in shocked silence. Mumbo wasn't entirely sure what he was expecting, but this was definitely not it. As Mumbo said, "Should we... let it out?" X simultaneously muttered, "Well that answers _that_ question..." The two Hermits stood uncomfortably still as the figure in the cell seemed to calm down, backing up with slightly less wild eyes. It stared into the distance, propping itself up against the wall of the cell for quite some time before looking back at the two. Its mouth opened and a strikingly familiar voice came out.

"...hello." The figure sounded so much like Mumbo that it was almost scary. "Explanation." The word was less of a question and more of a statement; this creation was demanding an explanation. 

And Mumbo had no idea how to give one.

Luckily, Xisuma was on the case. In about sixty seconds, the admin had managed to sum up everything that was going on, from Mumbo building the machine, to the apple cloning, to the creation of... the creation... itself. Mumbo really needed to give him a name at some point. 

After a few more minutes of explaining and talking to the Mumbo lookalike, X pulled Mumbo to the side. "I think we should let him out," Xisuma suggested. Mumbo nodded in agreement; the redstoner was just about to suggest that. The npc-- it was the simplest thing Mumbo could refer to it-him?-them? as-- seemed to calm down quite a bit, and Mumbo was at least eighty percent sure that it wouldn't try to run off and get it and/or anyone else hurt.

Calmly and carefully, Mumbo walked over to the cell door. His eyes met the npc's, the latter of two's narrowing slightly. He slowly opened the door, but couldn't help stepping back quite a bit. "Wanna come out?"

"Alright," the npc said in an almost monotonous voice. He-- Mumbo figured he was a he at least-- seemed a fair bit more than uncomfortable leaving the confines of the cell. As he stepped out, the AI's arm shot out to prop himself up on the cell, and his steps were wobbly and unbalanced. Mumbo blinked. Could he not walk? Uh, oh. Before Mumbo could ask any questions, however, the npc continued. "So this is Hermitcraft."

Wait, how would the lookalike know that? Neither X nor Mumbo hadn't mentioned it at all in the time they explained-- which, in hindsight, would probably have been a good idea. But nevertheless, the two didn't mention it, and so there was no logical explanation for the npc to know it. Unless... 

"Mu- er, you-" Mumbo _really_ had to figure out something to call him, "Where are we?"

The npc answered him immediately with no sign of hesitation. "In the secret room under your base."

Mumbo caught X watching intently in the corner of his eye while he asked a second question. "How do you know this?"

Mumbo had asked a question that he and X hadn't gone over, which, again, probably would've been a good idea, but it aided him now, so he wasn't complaining. There should've been no way that this AI had known that. If Mumbo's theory was correct, this creation of his was more complex than he had thought. And it appeared that Mumbo was right, as the other didn't respond for a full minute, before saying,

"I remember building it."

Mumbo saw X perk up in the corner of his vision. The moustached Hermit couldn't help but smile, though, internally he was practically jumping up and down in excitement. This AI he had created, he owned Mumbo's own memories. How, why, Mumbo had no idea. But he did. That explained why he knew all those things, why he seemed so calm just a minute or so after coming into very existence, why he had no good reason for knowing things other than he just _did._ Mumbo was chuffed to absolute bits with this. He couldn't wait to bring this out into the real world and show everyone. 

Maybe the npc and Grumbot could become friends, even! 

But then, when exactly _could_ he bring the npc out into the real world? He certainly couldn't yet, no, no, no. The npc just wasn't ready for real human interaction yet-- outside of Mumbo and X, of course. He could barely speak on his own yet; the bot had been silent for a good two minutes now. No, Mumbo needed to keep this AI in for at least a while longer; maybe a week would be good. 

A week. That was a decent amount of time. How long had it been already? Surely it had been a fair amount of time-- the Hermit wondered if anyone had noticed his absence yet. He turned to Xisuma. "Hey, X," the Hermit began. The admin, who had been idling in the corner, messing with something on his communicator, glanced up.

"Yes?" He glanced between Mumbo and the npc. "You want me to leave or anything?" The admin's eyes locked with the npc's own, and Mumbo tilted his head. 

"Do you want to... talk with him?" Mumbo was getting the feeling that that was exactly what X had wanted to do. Momentarily forgetting what he actually was going to ask X, he moved to the other side of the-- granted, small-- room to allow his friend and his creation to chat.

A few minutes later, X came back to Mumbo. "You wanted to speak with me? Heh, I assume my speaking with your clone wasn't the only reason you called on me."

Clone. There it was again. Mumbo couldn't put his finger on it, but something felt off about calling the npc a clone. But, nevermind that, Mumbo _had_ wanted to ask X something. "Yeah, actually. When you leave, would you mind telling everyone that I am, in fact, alive? I mean, it's been over a month now, been a-"

Xisuma cut him off with a laugh. "Of course I can. If you'd like I could go now; leave you to your bot. Unless you needed me for anything else?"

After a moment, Mumbo shook his head. He really _didn't_ need anything, now, did he? Really, all he had called the admin for was to help him activate the machine. He didn't exactly need him for anything else. "I'm good for now! You can go if you want." 

And go he did. In just a few more minutes, Mumbo was alone with his AI.

"So," the brit began. "Any questions?"

\-----

After about an hour of 'answering questions', most devolving into large conversations, Mumbo finally decided it was time to do what he had been meaning to since the creation of the creation. Give said creation a name. "Hey, buddy." The npc looked up from where he was sitting on the couch. "I think it's about time you got a name. How does N-"

Surprising enough to Mumbo, the other intervened, cutting Mumbo off. "Actually, I think I'd like to name myself."

Mumbo didn't exactly have a good reaction to this. "Wh- You know _normally_ you don't name yourself right?" was all he could make out, and even that was a sputtering mess. Why hadn't he considered the fact that this npc-- who had displayed completely different character traits from Mumbo, oddly enough-- would want to name himself? 

The creation merely blinked at Mumbo's refute. "You named yourself."

"No I didn't." Mumbo raised his eyebrows, frowning slightly. What on Earth...?

"Yes you did. You weren't always Mumbo Jumbolio, remember?" The npc gave a smile. "Before X recruited you. That was an alias you made just for Hermitcraft."

Mumbo shook his head. He didn't remember a single bit of this. He had always been Mumbo Jumbo. And _recruiting?_ What in the name of the Nether was this AI talking about? Surely there was a glitch in the programming... And Mumbo had tried so hard for there to be _none._ Wonderful. Nonetheless, Mumbo supposed he wouldn't get anywhere by refusing the npc the ability to name himself. He sighed. "I suppose if you wan-"

Before he could even finish, the soon-to-be-named npc's face lit up and he began to nearly glow in happiness. "Thank you! Ohhhh... I know the perfect name!" 

The npc ended up naming himself Sage, for, in his words, "It's like you, but at the same time, the complete opposite." Mumbo couldn't decide whether or not to be offended. But something he definitely knew he was feeling was pride. This... thing... this AI, this npc, Mumbo had made it. Sure, X had pressed a few buttons, but Mumbo designed it. He was so incredibly proud of himself. 

And he just couldn't _wait_ to show Sage off to the rest of the Hermits.

\-----

**1 month and 3 weeks earlier**

It had been a little over a week since the npc had been brought to artificial life. And just a few hours, maybe minutes, before Mumbo planned to leave his little room of his own creation. Who knew that over a month of zero interaction with most of his friends would be so taxing? And forget about real, natural sunlight; the redstoner was practically a vampire at this point. Glancing at the staircase in anticipation, the brit was frantically going over in his head repeatedly what he had done with Sage over that last week, trying to remember if there was anything he missed.

Granted, he didn't exactly do much with him. After all, with Mumbo's memories, surely he knew how to do things. The AI didn't need to learn about redstone; surely remembering doing it was enough. The AI didn't need to learn how to fly-- not that Mumbo could do anything for him there... and not just because they were stuck in a small underground room. 

And there were things that Mumbo didn't even teach the AI, yet he discovered on his own. For instance, he certainly made a personality for himself. Much unlike the quiet, mildly grumpy being he had been right at the start of his life, Sage was now almost always smiling, and always had something to say. He never seemed to get all that upset with whatever Mumbo had to say; he was pretty optimistic, as people go. The Hermits would love him, Mumbo decided.

In other words, Mumbo was ready to bring the npc into the real world. Turning to his creation, Mumbo begun, "Sage, I think it's time we bring you out into Hermitcraft."

Sage's eyes widened in fake surprise. "So you mean there's more than a small room underground? Incredible!"

"Oh shut up," Mumbo laughed. Quite the personality indeed. "What I was _going_ to ask, before I was so rudely interrupted, was if there was anything else you wanted to know about before we go."

The npc stared into space, evidently in thought, for a moment before answering. "Actually, yes. Your... bracelet... communicator... thing. Could I see it?" The npc cocked his head, staring right at the silver band on Mumbo's wrist. 

Mumbo thought for a moment. He had never taken it off before; not that he could remember, anyway. But the communicator, it was just that. A communicator. Something used for communication-- or more, in Xisuma's case, but Mumbo wasn't an admin, so that didn't apply to him. After a moment's thought, the Hermit undid the clasp attaching it to his wrist and carefully handed it to Sage. "Careful," he warned. "I don't really want to know what happens should it break."

The npc took it and turned it around in his hands, studying it. "Cool..." He attached it to his wrist, just as Mumbo had worn it. He sat still for a moment, simply admiring it.

After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Mumbo coughed. "Could I... have it back, now?" No answer. Sage just stayed perfectly still, smiling down at the communicator. "...Sage?"

And that's when Sage looked up with Mumbo, his face adorned with a more-than-happy, abnormally wide smile that revealed crooked teeth and large, silver-speckled, amber eyes.

And that's when Mumbo Jumbo knew that something was terribly wrong.

In a flurry of motion, Mumbo slammed his hand down on the button to open the piston door. The _PUSHHHH_ of the pistons seemed infinitely far away, as he ran up the stairs as fast he could. His racing heartbeat matched _badumps_ with the _thump, thump, thump_ of his feet on the ledges. He had to be almost there! Outside. Something was wrong with Sage. Why had he thought making another AI was a good idea? He should've taken X's advice and let him help. 

X! X could help now. X knew about Sage. X knew the programming behind him. If Mumbo could just messa- Nope. He didn't have his communicator. He couldn't call for help. He had to get there on his own. 

Not far now. How many stairs were there? Was Sage behind him? He couldn't hear anything. Maybe he should look back.

Mumbo glanced back.

Mumbo missed a step.

"Oumph-!" Mumbo hit his head on the hard surface of the step and the world spun for just a moment. But Sage wasn't behind him-- not yet, at least. If he could just make it out, he could get a potion of healing, or simply die, whatever he needed to do to fix his head. 

Aha! Light! Though it was currently just a white abyss, somewhere close, Mumbo could see daylight flooding down onto the staircase. Just.. a little... mo-

_Pushhhhhh._

And just like that, the light was gone. Mumbo collapsed to the step he was standing on, panting. 

"You really should've fixed that door."

 _WHAM._ Mumbo's head met the ground again, and everything went dark.

\----

When Mumbo woke again, he was in a familiar place. And it wasn't the comfort of his own base. Flinging his pounding head around wildly, he recognized the familiar, small area of his own cell. The one he had stayed in while allowing X to make Sage. The very small, very claustrophobia-inducing one.

Mumbo was liking this place less and less.

Especially since, sitting right outside of it, on the couch, was Sage, his arms folded on his lap, and his grin wide. "So, Mumbs," he began.

"How are you liking imprisonment?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas, if you celebrate the holiday, my little Readers! My present to you lovelies is a... very... long chapter!
> 
> WHY DO I LOVE LARRY SO MUCH???
> 
> If I don't see you guys again before the new year, have a very happy one! We are almost out of 2020; we've just got to hang on a little bit more!
> 
> And as always, have a great day, and see you next time, my little Readers!
> 
> Promise out!


	14. ~Chapter Thirteen~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Promise brings in a new MC

**Present** **Day**

Iskall's POV-

Something was up with Mumbo. An idiot could tell that. And even if Iskall had any doubts, a recent interaction involving TNT and an extra three hours of work solidified his claim. Mumbo had been acting funny ever since he first returned from the depths of his base. Perhaps he couldn't see it before, but he did now. He just had to figure out what it was.

But it was one thing to _know_ something was up; it was another entirely to _prove_ it. Now, that would be a very difficult task to do-- be it that there was no good way to document events at all. Iskall was in a bit of a tight spot on that account. Or, rather, he _would_ be in a bit of a tight spot, had he not spent hours messing around with his precious communicator. And over those hours, he discovered a little feature of which he had never been aware, nor been told. 

And this feature would help him in his mission. 

That is, when he figured out what exactly his _"mission"_ was.

Because, at the moment, Iskall had no clue. 

All he knew was that he had to get some kind of _proof_ that Mumbo wasn't normal. What he would do next, he didn't know. How he would go about actually getting said proof, he didn't know. What he would even count as proof... he didn't know. Iskall didn't know a lot of things about his "mission", he was finding. He mainly just wanted to do something about Mumbo.

Because this Mumbo, this wasn't Mumbo. This wasn't his friend. He wanted his friend back. 

And he was certain that other people had been noticing as well. The other day, the swede had caught a certain two Hermits hanging about a new detective shop. And he could swear that X had been acting funny around Mumbo the other day when the redstoner magically came back. So this wasn't a baseless accusation; Iskall could totally back up his claim. He just needed solid evidence.

But first, he needed to check in on his dear friend, Scar. The Hermit had recently placed an order for an abnormally large amount of slime that Iskall hadn't had in his shop, and he intended to deliver it. He also made a mental note to ask _why_ _,_ exactly, he needed eighteen stacks of slimeballs. After grabbing the shulkerbox filled with goodies, the Hermit took off into the sky on his elytra, shulkerbox in hand, on his way to Scar's drill.

As the cyborg navigated over the server, however, he immediately got distracted by a certain death trap-appearing thing being built by none other than the moustached suspect himself. And this wasn't at his industrial district-- it couldn't be some kind of mob farm or another. It was very curious indeed. Iskall hesitated for just a moment... before putting the shulkerbox into his inventorial pouch and diving down to the shopping district, right outside Grian's barge, where the redstoner was buried in his work.

But as he was diving down, Iskall felt a sickening _crack_ from right behind him. Oh no. Within a moment, he was plummeting the rest of the way down to the ground. Thankfully, it was not far, and Iskall survived the fall. Unfortunately, while he survived, he didn't exactly land stably on his feet, and the swede stumbled forward, tripping over a line of string stretching from two tripwire hooks. Throwing out his arms to break his fall, Iskall fell forward.

But not on the ground.

Grasping at air, Iskall, tumbled down the hole, his eye wide. But his foot snagged on a stray root on the ground, preventing him from plummeting down into the seemingly endless abyss. Gritting his teeth from the jarring pain in his ankle, and legs, and pretty much his entire body, Iskall twisted back up, grasping the root with his hands while he wriggled his foot out. Once he was free, the swede pulled himself back out of the bottomless pit and stood shakily to his feet, staring Mumbo, who had been standing a few steps back the entire time with a mildly amused expression, right in the eyes.

Before he spoke, Iskall allowed himself time to let his racing heart slow down and to regain his shaky breath. As it turns out, nearly falling to your doom twice in the span of three minutes is not good for your head, and Iskall's was still spinning, both from the stress of the moment and the large amounts of quick movements and disorientation.

After a moment, the swede finally spoke. "So, Mumbo, what are you doing?" His voice was just the least bit raspy and low, and he spoke mildly slowly, letting each word sink in. For he wasn't wondering 'what Mumbo was doing', no, he knew exactly what he was doing. Building a trap or prank of sorts that involved sever height damage right outside of Grian's barge. What he wanted to know was _why_ Mumbo thought setting up a death trap right outside a frequented store was a good idea in the slightest.

Now, Iskall couldn't think of a single reason, other than purely the heck of it, to do something like Mumbo was doing, but the answer he got surprised him, yet made complete sense. "Hermit Challenges," Mumbo answered, an unreadable smile creeping onto his face. Not a syllable more, not a breath less. Mumbo didn't say anything but, 'hermit challenges.'

Mumbo was always thinking up the weirdest and most elusive things for his 'Hermit Challenges,' Iskall was honestly a tad surprised he didn't think of that himself. And Mumbo didn't ever elaborate on anything. Iskall wasn't about to get more out of him.

He still didn't like the completely blank expression Mumbo's face held after Iskall nearly died multiple times.

But he hadn't the time to spend dwelling on that; he _did_ have a delivery to make, after all. So, without another word, and just a wave of goodbye, Iskall leapt into the sky... and fell right back down to the ground because his elytra was still broken. Right. He had forgotten about that. Luckily for him, though, he had packed a spare in his pouch. He pulled it out and replaced it with the old one, quickly strapping it on and waving goodbye to Mumbo before taking off towards Scar's drill.

As he flew, Iskall thought about what had just happened. His elytra broke--he had to fix that; he nearly died twice-- would be more traumatizing if that didn't happen as often as it did; he accidentally stumbled upon some work-in-progress Hermit Challenges thing-- whom it was for, Iskall didn't know, but he had a good guess; Mumbo had once again been acting weird-- as if he needed anymore reason to lose trust in him; he missed a chance to try and get some proof-- though he wasn't sure what he would even have counted as proof, so maybe there wasn't much of a loss there; and he just now realized he was going in the complete wrong direction-- crap.

After a good few more minutes, Scar's drill finally came into Iskall's view, and who was standing right outside, looking up at the flying swede, but the Hermit himself. He couldn't see him very well, though, as a light fog had begun to surround them. Oh, well, he'd just have to be more careful. Iskall touched ground and pulled out his delivery with a, "Hallo, Scar!" 

His friend grinned as he gratefully took the shulkerbox out of Iskall's hands. "Hey, Iskall! Thanks for the delivery!" Scar tucked away the box in his pouch as Iskall watched with slight bemusement on his face. 

"May I ask _why_ you ordered eighteen stacks of slimeballs? And not just two stacks of blocks," Iskall inquired. " _Whichareprobablyinstockrightnow,"_ he added under his breath. Would it not have been easier to just buy a few stacks of blocks from the store, rather than have Iskall come all this way for a special order?

Scar shrugged. "I actually wanted to talk to you, and this seemed like a good way to do so. Plus I wanted slimeballs."

Iskall inhaled, raising an eyebrow and holding up his communicator. "You couldn't have just asked to meet up?" He was losing Scar here.

Apparently Scar was also losing himself, as he began to sputter over his words. "Well- I just thought- well it was just easier to-"

Iskall laughed, and lay a hand on his flustered friend's shoulder. "Kidding, kidding. What did you want to talk about?" He stepped back, folding his arms as scar devolved into senseless words mixed with hysterical laughter. He didn't question _why_ Scar needed slime. That was one of the things you don't ask about, especially as a salesperson; people have their reasons. Iskall did have his assumptions, though. Being the self-proclaimed sorcerer-wizard-magician person that he was, the cyborg assumed it must have something to do with his magic crystals. 

Iskall himself was a firm believer of Scar's magic. Of course he would be-- his own unnatural eye was powered by a magic-infused diamond that Xisuma had made for him years ago after an unfortunate skeleton incident. So of course he was intrigued in what Scar planned to do, but he stayed quiet about it. For now, at least. 

Scar stopped laughing and turned more serious, and Iskall immediately knew Scar's true intention. This was about to turn into a lovely talk about- "Have you Grian being a bit... different, lately?"

Well that went somewhere that Iskall certainly _wasn't_ expecting. What was Scar talking about? The cyborg shook his head. "No, I can't say that I have," he admitted. "In what way? He seems better than before, right?"

Scar quickly shook his head, then nodded, and finished in som kind of weirs bobblehead motion. "No, I don't mean in a bad way, necessarily. I mean... just different. More lively, more excitable. Definitely big contrast from how he was like when Mumbo was- you know-"

Iskall nodded his head in understanding. Of course he knew what Scar meant. Grian was not himself for the few months of that. He motioned for Scar to continue, narrowing his eye in thought.

"I'm just a bit worried. We both know that Mumbo is... not normal..." He paused for a moment, before taking a breath and continuing, "You _have_ noticed-"

Iskall cut him off. "Definitely." Of course he had noticed.

Scat nodded. "Thought so. Anyway, we both know that Mumbo isn't okay, but I don't... I don't think Grian does."

Oh.

Scar had a point, there. From what Iskall had seen, Grian didn't seem to be showing any signs of mistrust towards the redstoner. The more he thought about it, the more he agreed with Scar's theory. "Yeah, I think you're right. Do you want to go talk to him or-"

This time, Scar interrupted _Iskall_ _._ "Nonono. Nothing like that. I just wanted to- er- what _did_ I want-" He fell silent for a moment before shrugging. "I just wanted to talk." He made an attempt at a half-smile, and Iskall couldn't help but chuckle.

"Well," the swede said in an attempt to lighten the mood-- though he wasn't sure what exactly the mood _was_ at that point-- as he pulled a few rockets out of his pouch. "pleasure doing business with ya, Scar! See ya around?" Since Scar has prepaid a few days prior, Iskall didn't need to collect any diamonds from him. Scar nodded.

"Yup! See you! Be careful in the fog!" Scar was right. The fog had begun to thicken. Terrible timing, he had to say. After a second, Scar continued thoughtfully, "Think about what I said, will ya?" 

Iskall gave a nod of confirmation and shot himself into the sky, spamming quite a few rockets as he went. It wasn't long before he was up above the clouds, leaving the ground behind and out of his vision. He flew on home silently. Even his mind was silent, not making him think about anything at all. Honestly, the silence was blissful. 

But then something broke the silence. And it wasn't his head. It was, in fact, his stomach. Iskall couldn't remember if he had eaten at all that day, and the sun had reached its prime an hour ago. Now, he couldn't exactly see anything from how high up he was, but by gauging the amount of time he had been flying, Iskall still had a ways to go before he arrived back at his base. And it was highly irresponsible to eat and fly; he'd have to touch down. 

Not looking where he was going, the swede nearly crashed into the nearest place he could find to land, which was a light-colored platform situated in the middle of the ocean. Or at least, he thought it was. The aforementioned 'light fog' had thickened immensely and Iskall could barely see anywhere, even with the light illumination he had from his fancy eye and faint lights from end rods. Nonetheless, he dig around in his pouch until he found something, which ended up being a mere bowl of rabbit stew. Ah, well. He'd find something better once he got back. 

Sitting down and leaning against an end rod, the Swedish Hermit let his mind wander. Unfortunately for his pretty good mood, his mind wandered directly to his plans for collecting proof. If only he had a feasible way to do so. Then maybe he'd have a place to go off of.

But as the fog around him slowly began to dissipate, Iskall looked up and saw bright, light blue lights shining through the fog, that slowly but surely cleared up to show the silhouette of eyes and a moustache.

And as the fog cleared up even more, and the face on the screen of the large robot blinked down at him, Iskall got an idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I believe I enjoy writing Sa- er, Mumbo, excuse me, far too much for my own good. Maybe I'm a bad person. 
> 
> Also, uhoh- I'm running about of chapters stocked up...


	15. ~Chapter Fourteen~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Promise writes at 3 am and hopes something coherent comes out

Scar blinked. "You want me to make you a life crystal."

Iskall nodded enthusiastically. He pulled out a notebook and flipped to a dog-eared page, filled to the brim with scribbles and sloppy notes. The paged detailed a figure, with a scribbled "6'" next to it. The figure had a very geometrical body, composed nearly entirely of squares and rectangles. Along the messy sketches were words, including but not limited to, "ask scar for help", "omega-sized transfer insert", "m a g i c", " truth about Mumbo????", and-- in all caps and underlined, "HUMANOID BODY FOR G". He held the notebook right in front of Scar's face before the Hermit slowly took it out of Iskall's hands and began to look over it.

Iskall watched intently as Scar begun to look over his plans. He was practically bouncing with exhilaration, and brimming with giddiness. He hadn't been this excited to do a project since he had first made the plans for his Omega Tree base. And, for once, it wouldn't take forever-- Mumbo had done most of the work already. He just had to prepare Grumbot's new body.

After a moment, Scar, without looking up, said, "Well I like the idea, but why me? Wouldn't you rather have X do it?" He handed Iskall hack the notebook and looked away slightly. Clearly embarrased, he continued, "He's a lot more advanced than me. Heck, he probably wouldn't need a crystal!" The Hermit waved his hand in what Iskall assumed was the direction of Scar's magic village. "Have you _seen_ Larry?"

Iskall had, in fact, seen Larry. And Scar might be right, in the idea that X was more talented and could probably do what Iskall was hoping for. But then again, Iskall couldn't place his finger on it, but the way X was acting caused the cyborg have second thoughts about asking the admin for help on this. The way he acted around Mumbo struck Iskall as odd, and he didn't exactly want to pester him about it. So, Iskall shook his head. "I came to _you_ for a reason, Wizard Scar. You think you can do it?"

Scar looked back at Iskall, his eyes glimmering. After a moment, he matched Iskall's grin and nodded. Adjusting his hat, the wizard began pacing, his strides full of determination. He began talking, and Iskall wasn't entirely sure who it was aimed to, so he continued to stand there, folding his arms. "A life crystal is definitely going to be a lot more work than a simple health crystal, though I think I can start there..."

After a few minutes, it was evident that Scar wasn't talking to Iskall, and the swede prepared to take off back to his Omega Tree, but Scar piped up, making Iskall pause. "Oh, Iskall. I'll probably have it in a few days." He then continued to say muttered nonsense that Iskall couldn't make a word of, and the cyborg took that as his sign to leave.

\------------------

Scar's POV-

The 'muttered nonsense' was actually Scar rambling on about his thousands of ideas for Iskall's crystal. The Hermit had never gotten a request before-- unless it was Xisuma giving him 'homework'-- for obvious reasons. So, the wizard had never really needed to come up with ideas on the spot, and was having a bit of trouble doing so. Oh, gosh, why did he say he'd have them in a few days? 

Few days... when would that be, again? Scar reasoned out 'few' to be two, so that would be Sunday, it being Friday that day. As he confirmed internally the day he would have to keep free, he froze. Today was Friday. _He had a meeting with Xisuma on Friday._

Scar looked up at the midday sun. He was really crunching for time, now! The two had agreed to meet at sunset every Friday to go over magic... things... and Scar was about to be late for the third time in a row-- though usually it wasn't his fault; it was the trees'. He quickly gathered his materials, including the slimeballs Iskall had delivered not an hour before he came back, shoving a notebook in Scar's face. Placing them into his pouch, he took out some rockets and flew back to his magic village, where X would soon be waiting.

Lucky for him, by the power of rocket spamming and lucky maneuvering, Scar was able to get to his destination in a mere matter of minutes. Landing right in front of Larry, Scar quickly emptied the contents of his pouch into a chest; grabbed his spellbook, a notebook, and a quill; and set up some chairs and a table outside.

Larry chirruped in greeting and moved his head down for Scar to give him a little pat pat. The wizard obliged gladly, rubbing his snail's head as a purr-like sound seemed to emanate from him. Scar chuckled, and leaned back again, opening his notebook to a blank page and setting it on the table. He also opened up his spellbook to a page very helpfully labeled 'Stuff'. Dragging his finger down the page, he landed on a scrawled word, 'Animation'. The action of bringing something inanimate to life. 

Simple enough.

...Or not. As the rest of the sunlight drained out of the sky, Scar's notebook filled with quick-written, yet somehow clearly legible, notes and sketches. The spellbook was definitely helpful-- the notes on animation were easily deciphered by the wizard. The issue was transferring the direct magic to magic applied by crystals. As the sunset waned and the moon peaked over the horizon, Scar used the light from his crystal that he still wore around his neck to illuminate his writing. Even though he could see perfectly well without it-- the effect increasing his sight capabilities, after all-- it was a force of habit that he couldn't shake, and the crystal itself was a nice example to glance at from time to time.

Eventually, when he deemed his research to be done, and was ready to begin enchanting, Scar quickly went back inside Larry's shell to retrieve a certain heart-shaped, clearer than glass crystal. Scar had been saving this one for something special, as it was one of the few crystals he had that were actually shaped like something, and this was as good a time as any to use it. He quickly climbed back down the ladder and retook his seat at the table, and continued to finalize his preparations.

Scar didn't even notice, as he worked, that the admin hadn't arrived until the moon was at its peak in the sky, when said bee-suited Hermit came crashing down right into the water off the shore, making a relatively large splash. Lucky for Scar, nothing got damaged, but he must've jumped out of his skin, as Xisuma chuckled as he resurfaced.

"Sorry, Scar," he said quickly, climbing out of the water and checking his suit for any leakage. "I got a bit caught up in my work and couldn't make it on time." 

Scar blinked. Since when was X ever _late?_ He had never 'gotten a bit caught up in his work', and often even came early. X had been acting exceedingly abnormal lately, hadn't he? The admin had seemed... off... for almost two weeks now. Scar wondered if there was anything going on that troubled him. "Are you alright, X? You've seemed a bit out of it for awhile now."

Xisuma waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, no, I'm fine," he reassured Scar. The wizard nodded slowly, uncertain, as he continued. "Bit of work to catch up on, that's all." Directing his gave to Larry, the Hermit smiled. "Hi, Larry!" The snail chirped in response, obviously pleased to see X and Scar couldn't help but smile.

X sat down in the chair opposite to Scar, his eyes drifting immediately to his spread of supplies. Gesturing to them the Hermit asked, "Seems like _you've_ been up to a little work as well. What are you doing with all of that?"

Scar, who was not prepared in the slightest, quickly fumbled his crystal and held it up. It wasn't yet enchanted, so it was somewhat hard to see for even Scar, who had his handy sight aid. "I'm working on a new crystal, actually. A lot different from my other projects." He held up his notebook to show the admin.

X nodded. "Oh?" He squinted a bit behind his visor. Scar was confused for a moment before he realized, of course X couldn't see it. He didn't have Scar's crystal. 

"Oh, uh X, do you need-" 

X shook his head with a laugh. "Nope." He raised a hand to the side of his helmet and pressed a concealed button. The mini bee wings sparkled and fluttered, glowing a dim white. The purple visor flickered at lit up, a bright magenta emanating from it. "Magic."

As Xisuma-- presumably-- read Scar's notes, the wizard internally kicked himself. Of course the admin would have magic. He was the one who taught _Scar_ it, why wouldn't he? That was silly of him. But then, that arose the question...

"Well, that looks interesting, Scar, but wh-" Xisuma began to speak, but Scar cut him off.

"Wait... if you could do that the whole time, why didn't you just... always have it on?" Scar cocked his head. Wouldn't that be useful? To simply have it on at all times.

"Well," Xisuma explained. "The thing is, I don't keep it on all that much to preserve my suit's charge. This thing right here-" Xisuma twiddled with one of the antennae of his helmet. "-this suit, is the source of all this magic."

Scar opened his mouth to say something, anything, but nothing came out. _What?_

"Well..." X fell silent for a moment, evidently lost in thought, before explaining further. "It's rather like a source. Of course, it replenishes over time, but-- for some reason I can't explain-- it does not like to recharge while its being used. And I have to use it quite a bit to deal with... things." Xisuma shrugged. "So I try not to use it when I don't absolutely have to. I wouldn't want anything bad to happen to anything-- or anyone," he added gesturing to Larry.

Scar shut his mouth, which he had just realized was hanging wide open. He had no idea. He never even questioned where the magic came from, but now that he thought about it, the magic _had_ to come from somewhere. And apparently it came from X's bee suit. But something didn't add up. 

"Wait, but the magic existed long before now, long before your bee suit. What had it come from before it came from that suit?" Scar placed down his notebook and crystal and folded his arms, sitting back in his chair. This magic stuff was certainly interesting, and rather confusing, to add.

Xisuma laughed and put his hand to the center panel of his suit. He pressed down, and the suit changed before Scar's eyes. What used to be the bee suit was now X's normal green one. "That's just it, Scar. It's the same suit. Cool, right?" He pressed it again, and just like that, the bee features were back.

Scar nodded. "Yeah!" Magic was awesome.

After a moment, X leaned forward on the table. "But enough about me. I see you're trying to bring something to life? And with a crystal, at that? Pretty advanced stuff."

Scar nodded eagerly. "Yes, I am. Definitely a lot more complicated than everything else." He held up his sight crystal, temporarily removing it from his neck and losing the effects. He really had to stop relying on this-- he was practically blind without it. Nonetheless, the Hermit continued his thought. "This thing only took me a few hours to plan and make." He replaced it, and grabbed the other crystal. " _This_ _,_ on the other hand, has taken like four hours _just_ _to_ _plan_ _out_ _."_

X nodded. "Yeah, that sounds about right. This admin magic is complicated stuff. Honestly, I'm surprised-- and impressed-- at how easily you're getting the hand of it."

Scar was about to thank X for the compliment, when he froze. Sputtering a bit, he said quickly, "What do you mean, ad-admin magic?!" Is this what the magic was? X's special powers? Is that what Scar was learning? How had he never known this?

X grinned. "You heard me." He then continued, as if this was all completely normal. "With you, well, not being an admin, I wasn't exactly sure how well you'd be able to do this." His eyes sparkled behind the visor. "But you've really impressed me."

Scar continued to sputter unintelligible nonsense, and X clapped his hands together. "So! What exactly is your project for? Making a new friend?"

Scar shook his head out, snapping out of his confusion. "Actually, it's for Iskall! He needed help on a project he was doing." X nodded intently, and Scar continued. "He wants to bring Grumbot-- you know, the huge robot-- to life. Something about Mumbo?"

Scar had a feeling he wasn't supposed to spill Iskall's idea, but something was nagging him to tell X. Scar wasn't sure if it had paid off, but _something_ definitely happened. X blinked, sitting up straight. The mention of Mumbo obviously bothered him. This had happened last time, hadn't it? When Scar had mentioned the investigation. X had frozen up. What was with him?

"Oh." X definitely seemed more uncomfortable. "That is... interesting." He shifted in his seat, then looked uo at the sky, where the moon was beginning to set. "Well, I- I think it's about time that we part for the day, no? No homework today-- just let me know how your project turned out! Bye Scar!" And without waiting for a response from the wizard, the admin had taken off.

Scar sat there, dumbfounded. What in the world just happened? Even Larry seemed a bit confused, letting out a soft whine. After a moment, Scar snapped back to reality. It _was_ getting late. He probably should get some rest.

And as he said goodnight to his snail and climbed back into his shell, he realized something else. He hadn't seen Jellie in two days. Scar knew right then what he was going to do tomorrow.

He would be visiting his good pal Sherlock Grian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Help I love Larry-
> 
> Also you can expect mid-chapter POV switches to be more common now. :)
> 
> When I tell you that this chapter went through so many rewrites and reworkings... I am not lying in the slightest.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for coming and see you next time, my little Readers!
> 
> Promise out!


	16. ~Chapter Fifteen~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Promise has far too much fun

Grian's POV-

Grian awoke to the sun shining through his window. Stretching, he drowsily threw his arms out as he sat up. He jolted up in his bed as he heard the crash of a piece of wood falling onto the floor. Peering over the edge of his bed, the brit noticed neat, almost blocky handwriting written in dark ink. Grabbing it as he stood up to get ready for the day, he skimmed the words written. 

" _'Come to the barge asap'_ ," he read aloud. He looked up, then back down, frowning slightly. Thinking aloud, he said, "The barge? Why?" Sitting back down on his bed, he grabbed a piece of bread out of his inventorial pouch and began to gnaw on it as he thought about who could've written it. The handwriting didn't match the handwriting of any Hermit he knew. The vagueness could've implied that it was one of those Hermit Challenges, but this didn't match Mumbo's handwriting at all. 

Eh, oh well. He'd figure it out soon enough. Did Grian have anything to do today? He couldn't think of anything off the top of his head, other than checking in on his robot son. So, he decided, he'd go visit Grumbot, then head over to the barge to see what was up. 

Soon enough, he had made it to Grumbot's platform, on which stood a familiar figure. The admin himself stood, staring up at Grumbot, clutching a piece of paper tightly. From what Grian could see, X seemed almost concerned. Before Grian could call out to him, though, X shot himself into the air and disappeared into the clouds, not noticing Grian in the slightest. Grian frowned slightly. It wasn't like Xisuma to be that oblivious, and what was he doing asking Grumbot a question anyways? Grian looked up at Grumbot's screen, whose eyes were slightly narrowed, watching X fly away. 

Grian was immensely confused. What had just happened? Xisuma had clearly come to ask a question, and evidently did not get a desirable answer. And Grumbot seemed almost mad? Grian shook his head out and walked in front of Grumbot's screen, stepping back a few steps so he didn't have to crane his neck. He waved, and Grumbot's screen flickered as He looked down at His dad-creator, His eyes tilting in assumed happiness. Grian blinked. Since when- He shook his head and smiled. His robot child was pretty much sentient at this point and he couldn't be happier.

It was almost enough to make him completely forget about the Xisuma incident just a moment before. 

Pulling out a diamond, he scribbled the words, _"How are you doing today, Grumbot?"_ After adding a smiley for good measure, he placed the diamond in the depositor and pressed the buttons accordingly. After a moment, Grumbot smiled again and out shot a small piece of paper that read, " _I AM DOING WELL._ " 

I? Grumbot usually spoke in the third person, but apparently not today. No matter, his robot son was doing well, despite the events of just a few moments before, and that was really all that mattered. He grinned, placing the paper in his pouch. "I'm glad," he said aloud, and Grumbot's screen seemed to flicker happily before returning to its neutral state.

But Grian _did_ have to get going soon, to his barge. He pulled out his rockets and prepared to take off, but then a thought crossed his mind. Mumbo would probably want to know about Grumbot's advancements, if he didn't already. Maybe he could find him real quick before he stopped by his barge. 

He pulled up his communicator to message Mumbo, but slowly put it away as he looked back up to Grumbot. Maybe he could just ask Him instead where his friend was. If anything, it'd at least just be interacting with his robot more, if it _was_ little less convenient. And who knows, maybe Grumbot liked the diamonds. Feeling a wave of déjà vu, he pulled out a diamond and scribbled on a very familiar question.

_"Do you know where Mumbo is?"_

He pressed the buttons and inserted the diamond into Grumbot's system. A single paper shot out. As Grian looked up from collecting the paper, he was taken aback slightly by Grumbot's screen. His 'face' flickered darkly, and His eyes were narrowed slightly as He stared right down as Grian. 

_"I DO NOT KNOW WHERE DAD #2 IS."_

Grian gulped. That was.. ominous, to say the least. What was up with that? He chuckled nervously. "Ah- okay, thanks for trying- Bye, Grum-" Waving 'goodbye' to his robot, the brit took off into the sky as Grumbot's features returned to normal. He could always just message his friend. Typing out a message to Mumbo while he flew, the shopping district came into view below him. Making an executive decision, Grian dived down to right outside his barge. He'd talk to Mumbo after he talked to whomever wanted to meet up here. Besides, for all he knew it could be Mumbo himself who wanted to chat, and Grian didn't even have to send a message at all.

Touching ground, Grian immediately noticed something off. That something being a line of a tripwire right outside his barge. This couldn't be some sort of trap, could it? It was right there in plain sight. There was no way anyone could think he'd fall for _that,_ right? Reaching into his pouch, the sweatered Hermit pulled out a small clump of cobblestone to chuck at the wire. Just to see what it actually did. Standing a good few feet back, he held up his arm and chucked the stone at the wire. Somehow, he managed to hit the wire and heard a _click._

He waited for a moment. Nothing happened.

Well that was... anticlimactic, to say the least.

Until suddenly the ground below Grian, suddenly opened up, sending the brit falling into a deep pit. Okay he was not expecting for the 'trap' to have been all the way where he was standing. Props. What felt like a few minutes later, he was _still_ falling. How long was this? Soon enough, he landed in a shallow pit of water, completely unharmed. He groaned a bit, standing up. The water was up to his knees, and filling his shoes quickly. Gross.

The sweatered Hermit couldn't see past his own nose; the underground cavern was damp and musty and pitch black. Grian thrust his arm out to feel for the wall, but there seemed to be none there. Wading through the water, Grian continued swinging his arms around to find some kind of side to this pit, but he never seemed to find one. How bit was this place? Raising his arms up, he couldn't feel a ceiling either. This must've taken forever to dig out.

After a few more minutes of blindly flailing his arms around in any hope of finding a wall, Grian reached into his inventorial pouch and felt around for a torch. Lighting it, he waved it around, to little effect. He could still barely see anything, except the seemingly endless room was more clearly endless. 

Pick a direction and walk in it, he advised himself. So he did just that. Turning a random direction, Grian began walking and walking and walking, seemingly forever. At this point, he was so confused that he was becoming impressed. This must've been a lot of work. Eventually, he hit a wall. For some reason, even though there seemed to be nothing there, the builder was immensely relieved. At least there was some kind of definite end to this pathless labyrinth. 

Pressing a hand against the wall, Grian decided that he's just follow it until he got somewhere. That strategy always seemed to work in mazes did it not? Follow the left wall and eventually you'll find your way. He might as well apply it to here.

As he went, the only sounds being the soft crackling of the torch, the swishing of water, and the occasional cough, Grian had time to ponder about what exactly he was doing down here. His first guess continued to be Hermit Challenges, but the atmosphere surrounding this place was so off, it unsettled Grian. Usually Mumbo came to his base with thousands of those 'burn sticks', or dropped in suddenly to drag him to the area in the forest. The redstoner never told him to come to some underground pond. But despite this, Grian couldn't think of anything else off the top of his head. It was unnerving, but he continued to walk, keeping his hand pressed firmly against the packed dirt and rocks of the wall. 

After what seemed like hours of walking, Grian hit another wall. Wonderful, he found a corner. But he felt something else, too. Stepping back, he held his torch in front of him to reveal a lever on the wall. He sighed happily-- finally, he found something! Grasping it with his free hands and pulling it, the wall in front of him shifted aside to reveal a very narrow passageway, a stark contrast to the large room he was in before. But he didn't mind it; he seemed to be going in the right direction.

Without taking a moment to consider that maybe going into a spooky hallway while he already didn't have a clue as to what was going on was a bad idea, Grian ducked into the place. Worst comes to worst he'd die and lose his things. Oh well. He may as well see what was up.

Walking through the tunnel, he had to duck his head a bit-- the ceiling was too low for even him to stand up right. Every time he raised his head to see what was in front of him, he got showered in grains of dirt and tiny petals, causing him to cough more. Gosh, this place was starting to be more annoying than it was creepy at this point. 

Eventually, in the distance, he saw an opening, with a dim light flooding from it. The literal light at the end of the tunnel. As he raised his head, emerging from the passageway, he looked around. It was like an underground dome. The ground was grassy and large rocks stood in various places, giving it a ruined touch. It looked almost like Mumbo's base before he modernized it. Campfires stood around the room, lighting it up.

And who should stand in the center of the room but Mumbo Jumbo himself.

He waved to Grian, and Grian waved back. "Welcome to Hermit Challenges," the moustached man greeted as Grian walked up to him.

Grian was nearly speechless, admiring the room. There were so many little details, little pebbles strewn about, withered roses at the bases of the rocks. "Nice place," he said at last, looking up at Mumbo. 

Mumbo's amber eyes glinted as he grinned. "Thanks," he replied. "Sorry about how tedious it was to get here." He chuckled, and it was clear that he was not sorry in the slightest.

Grian laughed. "Eh, I had nothing else to do today. Why _not_ wade around in a knee-deep pond of water for a few years?" His pants were still damp , and he shivered a bit. He glanced around. "So where are the dispensers? How is this gonna work?"

Shaking his head a bit, Mumbo explained, "Well... this'll work a bit differently than normal. I actually have a specific challenge I want you to do, and figured I'd like to just... say it out loud." 

Grian nodded. That was odd, but what _wasn't,_ really? It was clear that this was no orthodox Hermit Challenges session, so why should he be surprised? He simply folded his arms. "Okay, go for it."

Mumbo smiled showing his crooked teeth. He looked Grian straight in the eyes, his eyes almost glowing with the similarly colored fire. Little streaks of silver glinted in his irises as he took a step towards Grian. Instinctively, Grian stepped back a bit, his own eyes slightly wide. What-

The moustached man stood straight up, keeping his gaze on Grian. He crossed his arms. "Grian," he began. His voice was quiet and laced with something that Grian couldn't quite place. "for your challenge, I want you to keep a secret."

Grian blinked. A secret? What could he mean by that? Breaking the gaze of the brit, he glanced around. Something-- actually many things-- seemed very off. It seemed almost sinister. Something was extremely wrong. This wasn't like Mumbo. He didn't act like this. The events of the past 2 weeks or so flooded back to him. He hadn't been acting right since he got back. Or had he? Grian couldn't remember. No, he hadn't. This Mumbo wasn't being normal. The normal Mumbo didn't drop you into a dark pit and leave you there to fend for yourself. The normal Mumbo wasn't good at not telling secrets.

Mumbo continued, despite Grian's clear discomfort. "Think you can do that?" 

Despite everything telling him to get out of there, Grian stood in place and nodded.

"Perfect. Well the thing is, Grian..." Mumbo's voice was sharp, and his words stabbed the builder as his heart raced in terror. "I'm not actually Mumbo."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like the cat's out of the bag.
> 
> ....and this is all the stock I have saved up. Looks like you lovelies will have to wait for more! I try to get chapters out once a week, but... heh... I am not very good at time management. (A little procrastination never hurt anyone, right?)
> 
> Anyway, thanks for coming and see you next time, my little Readers!


	17. ~Chapter Sixteen~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scar meets a new buddy and Grian meets a new... not-so-buddy

Scar's POV-

Scar didn't sleep that night.

He stayed up all night perfecting his crystal. At long last when he was satisfied-- and maybe even proud-- of his creation, the sun had already started to rise. He tried to get some sleep once he finished, but he had just lay in bed for an hour, unable to drift off, before giving up. Ah well, he'd surely get some sleep tonight. Maybe. If all went well today he might.

Scar would be calling for Sherlock Grian that day, to discuss everything that had been off the past couple weeks. Jellie's disappearances, Mumbo's oddness, _Xisuma's oddness,_ everything that had been abnormal. He could hardly wait. Even though they probably wouldn't be getting any answers that day, he was still excited to at least get going on investigating... maybe. To be quite honest he had no clue what his goal was. He just knew he needed to have a _nice chat_ with his friend.

Sitting on top of Larry's shell, Scar faced the lake. Not having gotten much sleep over the last few days, the wizard was very tired and mildly loopy. Standing up to climb down, Scar wobbled sleepily a bit, fumbling and dropping his crystal. "ACK-!" 

Jumping down quickly with little regard for his own health, Scar landed on his feet and immediately crouched down, turning around on the grassy ground, ruffling through the blades of greens to find his creation. _"Please don't be damaged,_ please _don't be damaged,"_ he muttered under his breath as he searched. Turning around, the Hermit came face-to-face with a small gray and yellow cockatiel. It stood still, staring at him, and he realized that in its beak was the crystal he had been searching frantically for.

If his heart rate had increased already, it wasn't anything compared to this. "Come on, parrot," he said quickly. "Drop the crystal, please. Can I have it? That's mine-" Attempting and failing to sound calm, Scar's hand shook as he held it out to the parrot. 

After a moment of tense silence, the bird, to Scar's dismay, flew up high into the air, still clutching the crystal. Scar gasped. "No, no, no, n-"

But the bird just landed on top of Larry's shell, placing down the crystal and chirping loudly. Did it want him to come up? Scar couldn't see why not; things like that happened a fair bit in Hermitcraft. Especially around the magic-user, as he was definitely more susceptible to strange things. Still he had to be careful, in case that wasn't the case this time.

Slowly, Scar climbed up the snail's shell. The bird didn't fly away, even shifting to the side a bit to allow Scar more room. So apparently it was the former. Scar sat down and the bird nudged the crystal closer. He tilted his head as he carefully put the crystal in his pouch. What was the use of stealing it? Did the cockatiel want his attention or something? Placing his hands on his lap, he turned to face the bird. "Hello, birdy. Did you want something?"

The bird seemed to nod. It chirped again, a series of cheeps and twitters, as if it was trying to tell him something. He blinked in confusion. "I'm sorry, I don't understand." The bird fell silent, narrowing its eyes. As it turned away, Scar noticed that around its pupil was an amber iris, matching Mumbo and Jellie's perfectly. The parrots' eyes were usually much darker. Huh. Interesting. 

"Do you have a name?' Scar asked. Maybe that wasn't the best question to ask, being that the bird couldn't exactly tell him. But apparently the bird had a different mindset, as it perked up, chirping. It quickly went airborne and flew up for a bit, before spotting a nearby beehive and flying right towards it. "Uh, birdie, I really don't think going near that is a good idea..."

Instead of leaving, the bird landed on the branch above where the hive was located. It gestured somewhat to it with its wing, lifting it up to point at the hive, then nodding its head. Scar was confused for a moment before he realized what she was trying to do. "Are you trying to charades me your name?"

The bird nodded eagerly and continued to 'point' at the hive, leaving Scar to try and figure out what it was saying. This was going to be awhile. Starting out with the obvious, he asked, "Hive?" Odd name, but he'd heard stranger. 

The bird shook its head.

"Honey...?"

Nope.

"Bees?" 

Scar could tell he had almost gotten it, because the bird starting chirping excitedly like a small child. "Honeybee? Bee?" 

Aha! The bird nodded and flew back to Scar, weaving between the large insects that had gathered around the hive. It landed next to him with an affirmative nod. "Well then," Scar said with a smirk. He held out his hand. "Pleased to meet you, Bee."

Bee nipped his finger. 

Ouch.

He pulled his hand back. "Fine, don't take my peace offering," he said, trying to be serious but barely holding back a laugh. The bird gave a little chirp that sounded suspiciously like teasing. "I see how it is," Scar huffed in mock indignation, crossing his arms. He turned away, only for just a moment later feel something prodding at his side. He turned back around to see the little bird pushing what seemed to be a handful of seeds towards him.

The Hermit cocked his head, picking a few up to look at them. Seeds? What for? The bird twittered and pecked his hand a bit. It stepped back again, obviously trying to make a point. Scar said slowly, "You want me to... give these to you?" He didn't understand what Bee was trying to get him to do. The bird nodded and Scar was even more confused. Could it not just eat them on its own? 

Nonetheless, he held out his palm and the bird gleefully pecked the seeds out of them. It gestured for more and Scar chuckled, attempting to mask his confusion. "Greedy bird," he said, holding out more. The bird ate those seeds. All of a sudden, it perked up, chirruping happily and rubbing her head on his hand. "Oh....kay?" 

He was about to say something else, but at that moment the bird went airborne and flew off into the jungle, leaving Scar dumbfounded. After a few moments when the bird didn't return, Scar sighed. A part of him was really disappointed. Why had Bee gone through all the trouble of.... all of that, if it was just going to leave? As the sun was high in the sky by now, Scar shifted his attention to his mission for that day. Contact Sherlock Grian.

Scar pulled up his communicator and typed a message to Grian.

_You whisper to Grian: Hey Sherlock Grian, got a minute to talk?_

After a moment of silence, Scar shrugged. Grian would get back to him when he got back to him. In the meantime, he could work on something. His mind traveled back to the order of slimeballs Iskall had delivered the day prior. Those would work nicely.

Scar had ordered all that slime after paging through the spellbook. He had landed on a spell that supposedly aided with transportation. It was a bit more advanced than Scar was used to, but he had figured that he could pull it off. Instead of crystals for this one, he needed slimeballs. And lots of them. So, he had ordered them from Iskall's shop-- paying extra for the hassle-- and stashed then in a chest once he had received them. 

Now, he walked over to the chest and pulled out an armful of the slime, glancing around for his spellbook. Where had he put that again? He dug through his pouch. It wasn't there, though the Hermit had sworn he put it back once he finished his crystal the night prior. Maybe he had left it on top of Larry's shell? He didn't remember it being there, but it was worth a shot.

He stepped outside of Larry's shell to be greeted by the snail. Looking up, he spotted exactly what he had been looking for. However, sitting on top of it was the bird from before. "Bee?" Scar cocked his head as he placed the slimeballs in his pouch, climbing up to where the bird sat, staring at him. It gave a chirp as Scar sat down next to it, his legs dangling off of the shell. Below it was the book and something else. It looked like a pendant of sorts, a bright lemon yellow with a pin on the back. Bee hopped backwards off of the book, gesturing for him to read what the page said. He obliged, bending over to read the page.

" _Translation_ ," he mumbled as he read. " _The process of translating words from one language into another. Applicable for all language and species barriers._ " He looked back up at the bird. "Is that was this is? A translator?" The bird nodded earnestly. Scar thought for a moment. Is this what Bee had left for? To get the pendant? He looked closer at it, and the pendant glimmered magically in the sunlight. After just a moment longer, he took his hat off and pinned the pendant to the star on the end of it. He placed the hat back on his head, whisking his unbrushed hair out of his face, and turned to the bird, who had flutteredup to him. 

"Hello," Bee chirped, with what seemed like a smile. "My name is Bee. Pleasure to make your acquaintance." 

\------------

**Earlier that day**

Grian's POV-

No.

No, it couldn't be. 

This had to be a joke, right? But the look on the other's face as he said it, his silver-speckled eyes glinting maliciously, gave the brit a sinking knowledge that this wasn't a prank. But he just couldn't believe it. All this time, this wasn't Mumbo at all. Even though he knew it was true, Grian said softly, "You're joking."

This impostor kept his gaze steady. "Am I, Grian?" The voice was Mumbo's, but the inflection wasn't. 

Grian bit his lip. This wasn't Mumbo. He glanced back to where he came from. Surely he could find his way back. He could fly out and escape. He could tell the rest of them, tell Xisuma. He would know what to do. He could get rid of this person.

Behind him, the other laughed. It was a gleeful chuckle; this person was obviously having fun here. "Grian, you can't think you can go back, can you? I'm not _that_ bad at redstone." 

Grian turned back around. He opened his mouth to ask what he meant by that, but instead said slowly, his voice harsh but quivering slightly, "Who are you?" He narrowed his eyes, and forcefully crossed his arms to stop his hands from shaking. His breathing was unsteady. 

The other stepped back. Then, making Grian jump, he dipped into a bow, looking up with a grin. "Sage, at your service. Been wonderful meeting you, Mister Grian." 

Grian narrowed his eyes. "D- Don't say my name like that," he growled. 

Sage stood up and brushed off his pants. He looked down at Grian, his small smirk not leaving his face. "Like what? I'm only saying your name, _Grian._ "

Grian shivered. Something about this... Sage... saying his name at all-- like he personally knew Grian or something-- rubbed him the completely wrong way. For a good moment, the brit didn't know what to say, or do, or even _think_ for that matter. He just found out that his best friend who had been missing for three months that had come back _didn't actually come back,_ and this was some imposter lookalike. 

Then, he knew exactly what he wanted to ask.

"Where's Mumbo?" This was less of a question, per say, as it was a command. It was a command for the other to tell him where Mumbo was. He must know, mustn't he? He must know where Mumbo was. "I know you know where he is."  
  
"I do, do I?" Sage chuckled, raising his eyebrows. "Such a bold accusation." After a moment, he continued. "Of course I know where Mumbo is. But I'm not about to _tell_ you, silly. You're lucky I'm even giving you a heads-up about my... identity." The face Sage had, it made Grian want to punch him. Of course, Grian could think of many good reasons to attack this impersonator, but his mocking grin was certainly up there. 

"And why are you doing that?" Grian challenged. This was a legitimate question. What would stop Grian from telling everyone else? And why only tell Grian in the first place? Then again, he didn't know if he was the only one who knew; this was just an assumption. It was hard to believe that even Xisuma hadn't known. 

Before Sage could answer, Grian's communicator chimed with a message. He ignored it, however, and so, apparently, did the other.

As if nothing had happened, Sage continued with a shrug. "Let's just say that I know that you and Mumbo are pals, and I wanted to give you a helping hand." He seemingly read Grian's mind, as he continued with, "And I know you won't tell anyone, because _you_ know that I have Mumbo, and it would be a right shame if anything unfortunate would happen to him-" His eye glinted maliciously. "-or any of your other friends, of course."

Grian froze. "You can't kill him, he'll just respawn," he countered, his voice wavering slightly. Sage was silent, continuing to grin. 

The air around the two was stiff as neither said a word. Without any natural sunlight, or even a breeze, the underground room was stuffy and damp. The towering rocks now seemed threatening, their long shadows scraping the floor. The only sounds were the crackles of the fires, which were now beginning to die out.

"Why are you doing this?" Grian's voice cracked. His tone had lost its force, and seemed like more of a plead than anything. 

This seemed to highly amuse Sage. He grinned widely before exclaiming with a flourish, "Because I was programmed that way, of course!"

Sage kicked the ground to his side, and the cavern wall to the right of Grian opened up, revealing a bubble elevator. "Now, if you don't have anything else, this will bring you right back up to the surface."

\-------

**Meanwhile...**

Scar's POV-

Scar wasn't exactly surprised-- this was exactly what the pendant was supposed to do-- but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't even slightly offput by such a human sound coming from the bird's beak. "Hello, Bee. Nice to meet you, too!" 

Bee nodded. "Yes, I suppose it would be. This hen doesn't stop for anyone, you know." 

Scar chuckled. "And modest too." The bird chirped indignantly, highly amusing Scar. "Bee. Bee, Bee, Bee. Odd name for a bird, don't you think?"

The cockatiel stared pointedly at him. "Says the human named Scar," she countered. Scar muttered something along the lines of _'touché',_ and the bird continued. "It's a good thing the translator works, this would have been a lot more annoying without it."

Scar nodded. "Yeah, the translator is great. Where did you get it?" It was excellently made. The only other person-- that Scar new of at least-- that could do magic on the server was Xisuma, but why would he have a bird give this to him? Why would he even give it to Scar at all? That wasn't like X, normally he'd teach Scar to make it, then have him make his own. 

Bee stuttered, shifting her wings uncomfortably. "W-well it was in my nest," she began, trailing off. She looked away, suddenly seemingly finding interest in the grains of Larry's shell.

"Uh-huh," Scar said slowly. Did Bee know something? What-- and why-- was she hiding? "Any idea where it came from?"

Bee was clearly not liking this conversation. Looking back at Scar, she explained quickly and irritated, "I- well, I don't know, okay? It was there and I thought it might be useful. Just-" She looked away, tapping her foot. After a moment, she looked back at Scar, who was staring at her with a mix of confusion and mild concern.

Scar, who was eager to change the topic as well, dropped the subject and cleared his throat cutting in quickly, "Well, it's convenient, to say the least." 

The parrot nodded. "Yes, yes it is. It makes all of this much simpler." Before Scar could ask what she meant by 'all of this', Bee continued. "You see, there _is_ actually a reason for my being here." 

Scar sat back-- or as far back as he could without tumbling off of the shell-- and folded his arms. His eyebrows raised slightly as he listened. He had assumed there was a reason for everything, but hadn't gotten a chance to ask. It must've been important, as Bee was perfectly still as she spoke.

"Well, Scar, I happen to have been... er... _created_ by a certain person-- you may know him-- by the name of Sage." The bird looked at him expectantly, as if expecting a reaction.

Scar blinked. Sage? He didn't know of Sages. The only _sage_ he knew of was the spice, and he doubted that that was what she was referring to. And what in the world did she mean by 'created'? His mind travelled to the EX incident. He leaned forward a bit now. This was definitely not what he was expecting. "Who's Sage?" 

Bee twittered nervously. "So, Sa-" However, she was cut off by a loud _ding_ coming from Scar's communicator. Scar pulled it up, giving the bird a 'one-second' signal. Reading the message, he realized it was from Grian.

_Grian whispers to you: I do now. Come to Mumbo's base._

After a moment, another message went through.

_Grian whispers to you: ASAP_

Well, Scar supposed he knew what he was going to be doing next. Standing up, looked down at Bee. "Mind if we continue later? I've got a meeting with a friend over at Mumbo's base."

If birds could go pale, Bee seemed like she might've. Scar bent over to pick up the book, and the hen landed on his arm, shaking her head. "Scar I _really_ don't think snooping around Mumbo's base is a good idea right now."

"It's fine, I doubt he's home. If he is, we'll leave, okay?" Scar began pulled out his elytra from his pouch and strapped it to his back. Yes, yes, he knew, snooping was wrong. But Grian seemed serious, so he figured it wouldn't hurt to go over there. 

As he strapped his elytra on, the bird flew in front of him. "Listen to me, this is an awful idea. Just trust me on this one." 

Scar crossed his arms as he pulled out some rockets. "You know you're not going to stop me right? I'm going, and if you want to come with, then come with. If not, then..." The Hermit took off, shooting into the sky. He looked back to see Bee hurriedly flapping her small wings to catch up with him. 

"If you die, I'm never.... never going to hear the end of it," Bee gasped as Scar slowed down to allow her to keep steady next to him. 

Scar chuckled. "If I die, you have every right to mock me," he confirmed. He highly doubted things could go _that_ horribly, but you never can know with Mumbo. The bird didn't say another word, and as Mumbo's base came into view, Scar dipped down, landing on his feet. He smiled as he turned to Bee, who landed on his shoulder. "Last chance to chicken out," he said lightly.

Bee huffed. "Using 'chicken' as an insult is demeaning." After a moment, she added, "Also you should take off the translator; you look like an idiot."

Scar was confused. What did she mean by that? "Huh?" 

"You're chirping at a bird," was all Bee replied. 

Before Scar could say anything more, Grian poked his head out from inside the base. He was in his Sherlock Grian suit. Scar quickly took off the pendant from his hat and placed it in the bag as Grian walked out. Seeing the brit, the bird hissed and fluffed her feathers. Scar couldn't help but chuckle; she must've received into from other birds about the notorious Grian.

Grian raised an eyebrow at the bird, but waved to Scar. "Come inside," was all he said, before ducking back in the base. Not a hint of a smile was present on his face as he did so, weirding Scar out. 

He followed Grian back inside, to where he was standing next to the same button the two had found the last time they were here. Scar didn't say a word, and Grian spoke up. "This time, we're pressing the button."

"Wait," Scar began. "I actually have a few things I wanted to talk with you abo-" 

He was cut off by Grian. "Those can wait," he said dismissively. "Ready?" His hand hovered over the button as he turned to Scar, and the wizard blinked. Grian was acting weird too. His eyes held something different. Was that desperation? Something told Scar that this wasn't under nice circumstances.

Scar shook his head. "No, Grian, I'm not. Are you okay? You don't seem alright. Have you been getting enough sleep?"

Grian stared at him for a moment before putting his hand down next to the button. He sighed. "Scar, I can't tell you what's going on yet, but you have to believe me when I say that this is extremely impor- Ow!" Grian and Scar both looked down at Bee, who had pecked at Grian's hand. "He just nipped me! What was that for?" Bee twittered insistently at him, and Grian's other hand twitched near his pouch. 

Scar noticed this and immediately scooped the cockatiel up in his hands, shielding her from the brit. "Grian, this is Bee. No harm shall come to her," he said defiantly. Grian sighed.

"Fine." Grian looked back at the button. "Can I press it now?"

Scar looked down at Bee, who was shaking her head furiously. He looked back up at Grian. "Yes."

Grian pressed the button, and a loud noise ensued. The three turned to the side to see the ground literally opening up, revealing a staircase. Scar couldn't hold in a little gasp, as he and Grian walked closer, peering down the seemingly infinite spiral staircase. Grian nodded beside him. "Let's go in."

The wizard nodded in agreement, and walked down a few steps, so that he was entirely below the floor. Though as he did so, something shifted-- and not in a good way. His previously pristine vision began to fade into a less detailed version of his sight before. This was what his vision looked like before he put on his crystal. Instinctively, he felt around his neck for the crystal, sighing slightly in relief at the fact that it was still there.

But something was wrong. Why has it stopped working? He stepped up the stairs a bit, and his vision came back. Back down he went, and it was back to imperfectness. Something was wrong. "Grian," Scar began. "This is a horrible idea. Something about down there... it's not right. It's dampening my magic, it's not working."

Grian rolled his eyes. "I think there's more reason to your magic 'not working' than some fancy magic-erasing walls." He began to descend down the staircase, slightly pushing by Scar. "Are you coming or not?"

Scar looked back up the staircase to see Bee sitting at the base of the steps, looking down at the two forlornly. He looked back at Grian, who was staring at him expectantly, and shook his head. "Grian, this is really bad, we have to go b-"

And that's when the floor beneath the two opened up, and the staircase shut, sending the two Hermits falling down into a deep pit. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya. :)
> 
> Things are getting heated up in here... or rather should I say down in there?
> 
> Hehe, have a great day and see you next time, my little Readers!
> 
> Promise out!


	18. ~Chapter Seventeen~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Promise adds a bit too much hot sauce to her writing inspiration and writes some pretty spicey stuff

Grian's POV-

In that moment, there was little he hated more than long, dark pits leading to an unknown and probably sinister location.

But soon after the stairs pulled out from under the Hermits, they sitting on another, rougher surface. Standing up, Grian glanced around sourly. There was no light coming from anywhere; the place was pitch-black. He couldn't see how big the room was, but it seemed rather large. Seeing a shape move beside him, the brit crossed his arms as Scar stood up, rubbing his back. The self-proclaimed wizard turned to him, and the two's eyes met.

"I said we should go back," Scar said cautiously, glancing around. "And now we're stuck here."

Grian mouth fell open. How was this his fault? "If we had moved quicker, we wouldn't have fallen! It's your fault we were still standing on that step!" He was certain that the two would've made it down just fine _without_ falling into a pit of doom. "But noooo, you were so worried about your ' _magic_ ' not working properly and we stalled!" 

Scar sputtered and raised his arms in indignation. "It wasn- it's _not_!" He protested, his voice spiking. "I can't see a thing! I had a reason for not wanting to go down there!"

"Well, I had a reason for _wanting to go down there!_ " Grian's words were loud and sharp, and were followed by an uncomfortable silence.

After a moment, Scar broke the silence, looking back up. "There has to be a way we can get out. We have elytras, we can just fly out-- there's got to be an exit _somewhere._ " Grian nodded. They weren't going to get out by arguing, after all.

"You really _are_ a spoon, aren't you?" An unfamiliar voice sounded in the distance. Grian and Scar both twisted around to find the source of the noise. It was a female voice, an overly saccharine cooing, not unlike the voice one would use to speak to a pet. But it was just a bit drawn out in a way that sounded as if it was mocking the Hermits. 

"You know," the voice continued. "I _told_ Sage that he didn't need to trap the staircase. I told him not to worry, that you wouldn't be _stupid_ enough to come here after he explicitly told you no." Grian froze. Who WAS this person? How did _she_ know what he and Sage had spoken about? 

Scar must've felt Grian's tenseness, as he spoke quietly. "Do you know what she's talking about, G?" Before he could answer, however, the other spoke again.

"I told him that you wouldn't dare come here _after_ he threatened the life of your dear friend Mumbo. And you even brought another person! How _stupid_ are you, truly?" She laughed, a high-pitched cackle. With every syllable, the voice seemed to be growing louder.

Scar grabbed the sleeve of Grian's sweater and turned the brit towards him. "Grian, you know something. What do you know?" 

"Oh and the one you brought was _Scar._ How fun is that?" A silhouette formed in the distance. As it drew nearer and nearer it became clearer what the sound was coming from. 

The lights flickered on and Scar let out a gasp from beside Grian as the figure said her next words. "Now, look what the cat dragged in."

The area washed over with light, to reveal a rather large, empty room composed entirely of smooth stone. There were a few off chairs, and some higher surfaces, making the room seem bigger than it was. There was a hallway in the back of the room, from which emerged a small cat with striking amber eyes. "J-Jellie?" 

The cat let out a laugh, which would've sounded sweet had her prior words not have existed. "Scar, I really would've thought you'd have figured it out by now."

Scar's face fell in realization as he muttered the words, "You aren't Jellie." His eyes darkened as he stared down at the cat. Grian didn't know what to think-- sure, Jellie had been acting strangely, but could it really be true that this wasn't her?

And how could this cat speak English?

The cat shook her head, a hint of a smug smile showing on her features. Her tail flicked as she leaped onto one of the taller surfaces jutting out from a wall. Letting her front paws dangle off the edge, she stared down at the two Hermits. At their stunned faces, she chuckled. "Meowing and mewing was such a pain, I'm telling you. You've got to make different noises, and be so precise on when you use them." She made a disgusted face, flicking her tail. "But oh was it worth it," she purred. She stood up and stretched. "I'm sure you have a lot of questions."

Now it was Grian's turn to speak. Barely keeping his voice from a yell, he demanded, "How long have to been pretending to be Jellie?" 

The cat's ear flicked as she contemplated. "I'd say about a week. A few days after Sage emerged." 

Before Grian could ask something else, Scar piped up. The brit glanced to him and blinked. If looks could kill... "Where. Is. Jellie." His voice was low and threatening, as if he was about to lunge at the cat and strangle her. 

But the cat was not deterred by this. She replied smoothly, as if her life wasn't being silently threatened, "With Mumbo, of course."

"And where is _he?_ " Grian butted in. He was truly getting tired of this. His blue eyes were narrowed, staring straight into the cat's amber ones.

The cat simply flicked her tail. "That's not you you to know, my dearest Grian." She smiled smugly as she leapt down from her pedestal. "Now, if you two have no more questions..."

Grian merely crossed his arms, but Scar spoke one last time. "But how did you know-"

The cat cut him off. "Memory is a powerful thing, Scar." And with that, she disappeared down the hallway. 

Grian and Scar stood still, dumbfounded for another moment, before Scar muttered something and turned to the brit. "What. Was. That. Grian, what do you know?" His eyes held a mixture of confusion and anger that made Grian grimace.

Taking a deep breath, Grian began, "Well, first of all, this is... why I wanted to come down here in the first place." Seeing Scar gesture to go on, he continued. His voice was slightly shaky, and he stared at a crack in the wall as he spoke. "Earlier today, I received a note to come to my barge." Quickly deciding to omit a few of the tedious parts, Grian quickly continued. "I did, and there was a trap. I feel in, and who's down there, but Mumbo." 

Scar nodded slowly. "What, was it that Hermit Challenges or whatever thing?" 

Grian paused for a moment. "Ye- uh-, well, sort of. That's what I thought it was. But something was off. Mumbo was acting wei-" But Grian never finished his story, as the sound of footsteps resounded through the room. "Oh, no."

Entering through the still-open hallway was none other than Sage, adjusting his tie as he walked into the underground room. Grian and Scar spoke simultaneously, Grian growling, "Sage," and Scar exclaiming, confused, "Mumbo?"

The imposter chuckled at Scar's ignorance before turning to Grian. "Grian, it's been what, twenty minutes? How small really is your brain?" He seemed highly amused at this turn of events, clasping his hands together. "I _just_ threatened the lives of the people you care about. There's barely been any time to let it simmer! I wouldn't have expected an infiltration for, say..." He quickly checked the communicator on his wrist for the time. "...at least another two hours. But the early bird gets the worm, right, Grian?" 

During his entire monologue, Grian was contemplating pulling out his sword and just lunging at the other, but something told him that wasn't a good idea. "What are you going to do about it?" He spoke slowly, a bit of panic setting in. Would Sage really do good on his threat? His gaze shifted to Scar, who was standing next to him, frozen. Had he made a horrible mistake? 

Sage seemed to notice Grian's glance, as he raised an eyebrow. "Now, what to do first but to introduce myself to your friend?" He walked up to Scar and held a hand out. "It's so nice to formally meet you, Scar. My name is Sage, but you can call me Mumbo," he greeted, his eyes sparkling maliciously. 

Scar's eyes widened, something seeming to click in his brain. "Sage- You- Bee-" He stammered, backing up and refusing the handshake. 

This seemed to at least somewhat confused Sage, as a look of unrecognition flickered in his eyes before he recomposed himself. "Well, since I'm such a nice person, I am willing to let you both off scott-free." He smiled, just too wide to be sweet. 

Grian crossed his arms. "And what's the catch?" There was no way that Sage would just do that. No way. Not after last time. 

Sage raised an eyebrow. "Maybe you aren't as bird-brained as I thought." He laughed, before continuing. "But I have to say that you are mistaken, my friend. I'll let you go, no strings attached." He thought for a moment, before correcting himself. "Okay, maybe a few strings. But this is a no-brainer. Just don't tell anyone about what happened, got it? I might not be so kind next time." His gaze landed on Scar. He clicked his tongue before continuing. "And Scar? Take good care of Citrus for me, I'm quite fond of her." 

Scar sputtered for a moment, before falling silent. The Hermit seemed unable to comprehend what was just happening, and to be quite honest, Grian was barely doing it himself. So the cat had a name-- Citrus. What was this, a restaurant? Grian shook his head out, snapping, "So are you going to let us go?" 

Sage rolled his eyes. "Way to ruin the dramatic effect." He pressed a button on the wall and Grian heard a shift of pistons from far above. "There, the passage is open again. Hurry; it doesn't like to stay open for long." And with that, he too disappeared into the hallway, it closing behind him. 

Grian and Scar stood in silence for a moment, letting everything sink in. Without a word, the two quickly strapped on their elytras and escaped the staircase in the nick of time before it shut. The button was left untouched as they exited the base.

After a few moments of standing silently outside of Mumbo's-- or rather, at the moment, Sage's--base, Scar spoke up. He spoke slowly, like he was confirming the information he just took in. "This 'Mumbo' that has been here for the past week-and-a-half is actually an impostor called Sage. He has a cat named Citrus." Scar said something else, but his voice was low enough that Grian couldn't hear it.

"That is what I am grasping," Grian sighed. This was all too much for one day. He shouldn't have leaped right into this. If he had waited... the builder's mind traveled to what might've laid at the bottom of the staircase. After this, Sage would probably bump up the security. He'd never make it down there now. This was a huge mistake.

Before Scar could say another word, the annoying parrot from before swooped in and landed on Scar's shoulder, chirping madly. Grian narrowed his eyes, before he remembered that the creature had been seemingly trying to stop Grian from pressing the button. Hm. Strange. He didn't bring that up, though, and Scar didn't either.

After a moment, Grian pulled out some rockets. "I... need a bit of time. Alone." Without waiting for Scar to reply, he shot off the ground and back home.

\------------------

Scar's POV-

And Grian just left, without waiting for the stunned wizard to say 'Goodbye.' He could've at least let Scar wave, or even say a word. But he supposed he may as well head back to his magic village. He had quite a bit to discuss with Bee, who was trying to get his attention. 

He decided to wait to clip the pendant until he got back to Larry; it'd be best for him to collect his thoughts first. As he flew through the air, with Bee flapping beside him, he began a list of things he needed to talk about with her in his head.

1\. Her relationship with Sage. She was 'created' by him, and now that Scar knew who he was, he couldn't help but be more than a tad suspicious.   
2\. She had tried to get him to _not_ go to Mumbo's base. Does she know what he's hiding? Why wouldn't she tell him?

As he was flying, the sun had begun to set. But he could still see perfectly clearly; his crystal was working again. Was there some sort of magic-restricting force surrounding the lower part of Mumbo's base? Who had set that up? X, Scar, and Iskall were the only people who really knew about the magic. Could Sage have known somehow as well? How so? Scar has so many questions...

Soon enough, he reached home. This time, he ducked behind Larry's shell and pushed away some well-placed dirt to reveal a secret ladder, leading to a special place where he did his most private of talking. He climbed down the ladder, and Bee, after a moment, followed him in. 

In the room sat a few chairs and a table, as well as some torches, a few chests, a crafting bench, a few furnaces, and an enchantment table, just in case this place would need to double as a bunker at some point. Scar sat down on a chair, with Bee settling on the wooden table. 

After a moment, Scar reached into his pouch and pinned his pendant to the star on the end of his hat. He folded his arms as he stared down at the bird, who seemed extremely uncomfortable. "Bee, I think it's time we talk."

\-----------------

Sage's POV-

Those Hermits were really fun to mess with, Sage was finding. They were so easily misled, so easily manipulated into doing pretty much anything. All it took was a bit of wordplay and some implications. Sage was having the time of his life. Being able to mess with things nearly however he wanted almost made up for the fact that he had little choice in the matter.

Stepping out of the dark hallway into a barely better-lit room, Sage sat down on a big, comfy chair. He couldn't exactly say he couldn't be happier with the 'life' he 'lived', but it could most certainly be a lot worse. At least he had a cat.

Speaking of, said cat walked into the room, stretching. "Hello, Citrus," Sage said with a smile. This wasn't his usual I'm-Going-To-Threaten-To-Murder-Your-Family, creepy smile; this was a genuine smile reserved for Citrus. He held out his arms for the cat to walk up to, before lifting her up and setting her on his lap. "You did wonderfully," he complimented, gently stroking her gray fur. 

Sage wasn't entirely a horrible person. He wasn't cruel. He was just... selective in the things he cared about. And his cat, well he certainly cared about her. Citrus purred, grinning. "I had to make it interesting, no?" After a moment, she stopped purring, looking up at the clone. "I will miss being useful though," she said with a sigh.

Sage shook his head, contradicting her. "You will always be useful, spy or not." 

The cat contemplated that for a moment. "I suppose I could always hang about some other Hermits as well," she considered, setting her head back down and curling her tail around her paws.

Laughing, Sage shrugged. "If you wish. I believe we shouldn't be too far away by now," he added, thinking. "As long as Grian and Scar don't somehow manage to blow us..."

Citrus glanced back up. "And how were you planning to actually stop them from saying anything? Your threat didn't exactly work last time." Her tail lashed in annoyance. "You would think he'd care more about his friend's well-being."

Sage looked up at the shape that had appeared in a doorway. It wore a yellow suit and purple visor, with little bee wings and antennae on the helmet. It leaned against the wall, its arms crossed. " _I_ won't. _You_ will," he directed at XisumaVoid, who simply nodded in return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I like cliffhangers too much for my own good.
> 
> Okay, but Sage and Citrus being besties gives me life.
> 
> Things will begin to pick up from here, so stay tuned! Thanks for coming, and I'll see you next time, my little Readers!
> 
> Promise out!


	19. ~Chapter Eighteen~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Promise goes insane and writes a really obnoxiously long chapter

**3 months earlier**

Xisuma's POV-

Atop of a spike, the admin sat alone in the middle of an ice spike biome, fiddling with his communicator. He had been thinking up a new experiment that he had hoped would work. Well, he hoped that all of his experiments would work, naturally. But this one, in particular, was important to him.

If this didn't work, then he had bigger problems than a disappointing experiment failure.

Xisuma quickly typed out a command into his communicator and clicked send. He waited a moment, two moments before heavy rain began pouring down. The bee-suited Hermit let out a long sigh of relief.

HermitCraft had recently not been doing so well, and X couldn't figure out why. He was doing everything right-- as far as he knew at least-- in the upkeeping of it, but it was still beginning to crash and burn. Ever since he began recruiting more Hermits last season, things had begun to go wrong. He was beginning to lose control of HermitCraft. He was lagging behind. It was a race he couldn't catch up to. A task he couldn't complete.

A game he couldn't win.

Quite literally, in his case. 

And it was beginning to drive him mad. Xisuma looked up at the sky to see the rain seemingly flicker a few times, then stop altogether. The admin's brow furrowed in frustration. Really? He couldn't just have this one thing? He sighed. Deciding that he'd figure that out later, Xisuma decided to check on the Hermits. Scrolling through the list of Hermits and their coordinates, he landed on Mumbo, whose had stayed relatively the same for the past week.

Hm. Maybe he should check up on the redstoner; come to think of it, he hadn't seen his friend in a good bit. And a nice elytra trip might help to clear his mind and allow him to brainstorm what to do about the crumbling server. 

Or it seemed that he wouldn't be having a nice elytra trip, as his elytra was broken. Apparently, he'd be doing this the old-fashioned way.

Not a minute later, the Hermit was propping himself up against a wall of Mumbo's base, extremely disorientated. He had forgotten how awful of an experience teleporting was. Shifting places suddenly was extremely bad for one's sense of direction and balance. Pulling up his wrist, Xisuma quickly reached out to Mumbo on the communicator.

_You whisper to MumboJumbo: Hey Mumbo, haven't seen you in a bit. Wanted to check in_  
_You whisper to MumboJumbo: I'm at your base_

As he waited for his friend to respond, X looked around Mumbo's base. It was getting a bit dusty with neglect. When was the last time Mumbo had been up here to tend to it? Sure, his base was designed to look ruined, but did he really have to let it actually do so? As he walked around, a stone button on a shelf caught his eye. It was linked up to a line of redstone. He wondered what that could be. 

Before he could think about it too hard, though, the ground opened up beside him to reveal a long, spiral staircase. Woah. Xisuma walked up to it, peering down when he heard a loud, repetitive thumping and a form came running up. X jumped back as Mumbo stumbled out of the staircase just as the floor closed again. 

"Oh- hi, X, didn't see you there." Mumbo chuckled as he blinked the sunlight out of his eyes. As he regained his breath from running up the stairs, X peered behind him at where the staircase had been. Had that been what the button was for? And why was he working down in there anyway? What did he have to hide that was so important that he couldn't just say something himself?

"Did you just- What _are_ you doing, Mumbo?" Xisuma was thoroughly confused. Mumbo chuckled and walked over to the button X was inspecting before. So that _did_ have something to do with this. 

After having the admin promise not to spill his secret project, Mumbo pressed the button. Once again, the sound of pistons sounded and the staircase was once again revealed. It wasn't lit very well, the only light seeming to come from a very distant bottom. The redstoner began to walk down the steps. He turned around to call back, "C'mon, X. Down here!" Xisuma followed quickly, allowing the floor to shut back above them. 

"Kinda dark," X noted. Maybe it'd be a better idea to light this up. He nearly tripped multiple times and ended up pressing his hand against the wall to avoid toppling down the steep steps.

Mumbo in front of him chuckled, though it sounded slightly uncomfortable. "Heh, yeah. I should probably do something about that." 

The light at the end of the tunnel-- or staircase, in this case-- soon got brighter and brighter until the two Hermits had reached the bottom of the stairs. Xisuma almost froze in his place as Mumbo revealed his project. It was a cloning device. "Mumbo," he began slowly. "Is that a-"

Mumbo cut him off, grinning wildly. "Yup! It's a matter duplication device!"

X raised his eyebrows. "It's a cloning machine." Was this a bad idea? This might be a bad idea. 

Mumbo crossed his arms, quickly countering X's claim. "Well- Not a _cloning machine_ cloning machine. I'm not creating life. I'm, er... making... artificial life?" Mumbo himself seemed unsure. X sighed inwardly. It wasn't that he didn't trust his friend, he just was wary of the prospect of more cloning. The last time that happened, it didn't go so well. 

Rolling his eyes, X walked up to the machine. 

"Hey, I saw that," Mumbo protested, but X ignored him, smirking to himself.

There was a communicator-like screen in front of the machine, showing hundreds and hundreds of lines of code. X had to say, it was impressive. "Is this what you're doing your work on?" X glanced back over to Mumbo, who nodded enthusiastically. 

"Yeah, it is! Like it?" The brit was clearly pretty excited, and X had to laugh just a bit. He turned to scroll through the lines of code, before turning back.

"Yeah, Mumbo, it's well-done," the admin praised. "Not that I expected anything less of course." X stood up. Now that he knew what Mumbo was doing, he should probably leave him to it. But then an idea came along. 

What if he could get Mumbo's clone to help him out? Just a little bit, here and there. X was ninety-nine percent sure that this clone would be, well, capable of it. Before he could stop himself, X found himself offering to give Mumbo a hand.

It seemed Mumbo was just as confused as X thought. He blinked, folding his arms. "Didn't you _not_ want me doing this?" The moustached man narrowed his eyes slightly in confusion.

Maybe X wasn't a fan of this before, but... He quickly spoke. "Ah- no, no. I- well I wasn't against the _concept;_ I just wanted you to be careful. Y'know, we don't exactly have a... wonderful track record with them." He found himself speaking quicker than normal, and finished, "I think this is a fun idea, actually, Mumbo, and I wanted to see if I could be of any use." He smiled hopefully. 

But then Mumbo refused. X had to admit, he was a bit surprised, but he understood. This was _Mumbo's_ project after all. But he was a bit disappointed. He had gotten his hopes up. But what was he going to do? Mumbo didn't want-- need-- his help. He'd have to figure out another way to save the server. 

After a moment, Mumbo continued, mild worry showing on his face. "What, are you afraid it'll turn out like..." 

X quickly cut in, waving his hands. "Oh, no! 'Course not!" He really should've watched his words, whoops. "I have complete trust in you to not end the world, Mumbo." He smirked as Mumbo's face paled just the slightest. "Kidding," he laughed. He fixed his expression, smiling. "But in all seriousness, I _do_ believe you'll do well. You cracked AI in three days, remember?" 

And he did. Knowing Mumbo, whatever he had planned would probably turn out fine. And worst comes to worst, it probably wouldn't be hard to stop. Explaining that he just wanted to check on Mumbo, X went to go back to the surface. "If you ever need help," X began to repeat before Mumbo cut him off.

"I know who to call." The brit rolled his eyes. "Bye, X!"

X attempted to find the button to go back up, feeling around for a moment. "Bye," he finally called when he finally got it. 

He walked up the stairs, thinking. He could use a break. Mumbo had his thing, all the Hermits were busy fighting over the mayoral position.. Come to think of it, shouldn't Mumbo be up there? He probably didn't expect to win. Maybe he didn't care as much about the race as his campaign manager did. But anyway, it was all fun on the surface, but X was finding it harder and harder to keep whatever control he had left. 

But he couldn't tell anyone. No, he couldn't tell everyone the truth about their lives. He had no idea how they'd react. Even Doc, who was one of his closest confidants didn't know. X sighed. Being the admin had a lot of struggling with it. He could really use a release from all of this.

Before he could get out, the top of the staircase closed, and a good portion of the light coming in from that side flickered out. " _Mumbo_ ," he called down. He was honestly relieved for the jerk from his thoughts. 

The floor opened again, and X continued walking, quicker this time, so that he got out with ample time to spare. He debated explaining what Mumbo was doing, but he _had_ made a promise to keep his lips sealed. 

The sun was still high in the sky when X emerged. He supposed he could try and work on something or other. The Hermit had plenty on his plate. He pulled out his elytra to strap on, before remembering it was crumbled and torn and unusable. X sighed. 

Pulling up his communicator to teleport back to the ice spikes, X received a message from Doc.

_Docm77 whispers to you: Hey X, I have a situation. Come to your bee shop._

Nevermind about the ice spikes, he knew what he'd be doing next. Typing out a command, X teleported to just a little away from the shop, to avoid suspicion. Making a mental note to find an ender chest and grab a spare elytra until he got back home, he walked up to where Doc was standing just outside the shop. He was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed, eyes fixated on a fox walking calmly around in a circle over and over. As he approached, Doc glanced up. "Oh, X. C'mere, look at this fox."

X looked at that fox. Even as he approached, the animal didn't run off as it normally would, it just continued to walk in a circle. "Huh," he said. This didn't seem normal.

"I've been watching this for almost ten minutes now. It was doing.... that when I got here and hasn't stopped since. And don't even ask how a fox found its way to the Shopping District, because I have no idea." The Hermit scowled, continuing to watch the fox.

That _was_ odd. Xisuma wondered if this was some sort of glitch. It had to be, right? It couldn't just be a weird fox. He mentally sighed. Why did there have to be so much going wrong? He stared at it for a moment before an idea sprung into his mind. "Oh, Doc, what if..." He dug through his inventorial pouch and found a few berries. "Maybe if we gave it some berries it would stop... doing whatever it is doing?"

Doc looked thoughtful. "Good idea. Maybe the berries would distract it?"

Distract it, stop it from glitching itself into oblivion by altering what it was doing... same thing, really.

X nodded. He held out the berries. "Hey there," he said softly. Almost instantly, the fox turned to X and ate the berries. Once it was finished, it seemed to realize how close the two Hermits were to it and ran off into the distance. X grinned at Doc. "Glad that worked out," X said.

"Agreed. Thanks for coming so quickly." The cyborg smiled, giving X a high-five. And with that, another one of the many problems was solved.

Through the rest of the day, X worked on different spells to go over with Scar that Friday, he worked on his own spells and commands, and he handled more glitches-- even if they were just minor ones. All the while, he couldn't stop thinking about Mumbo's cl- matter duplicating device. If X were to talk to the clone once it inevitably was created, could he get it to help him, in any way? 

And then a thought hit him. What if there _was_ no way to fix this? What if things would keep getting worse and worse until X finally had to come clean to the rest of the Hermits and explain what was going on? What if something bad happened to someone in the process? And what would the others think of him? Would they be upset he kept this secret from them for years? 

And what would they do after that?

It was not a pleasant string of thoughts, but X couldn't seem to push it out of his mind. And as night drew near, the admin found himself wishing he didn't have to sleep. But his desire to be well-rested overweighed his wariness of falling into the dreaming world. He lay in bed for exactly one, two, three, fo-

_The moment Xisuma awoke in the middle of a dark abyss, he knew what was about to happen. The admin scowled. He was no longer in the world of HermitCraft. No, this was a new place entirely. A place where he wasn't in complete control. A place where even banned people could still find him._

_And find him EX did. The red-suited ex-hermit was soon standing in front of the admin, his arms crossed. Even if his face was largely covered by the helmet, X could tell he had that same, stupid, cocky grin on his face. "What do you want," Xisuma snapped. He scowled and narrowed his eyes._

_"You know what I'm about to say, X," the other answered. "And you're already considering it, aren't you?"_

_The worst part was, EX was right on both accounts. But X wasn't about to let him know that. "I have no idea what you're talking about. Now go away. I didn't kick you out of HermitCraft to let you come back in my dreams." He tried to sound threatening, but threatening the evil counterpart of oneself is much harder than it sounds._

_EX scowled. "Couldn't you at least_ try _to be competent? You're such a pain sometimes, Xisuma. You and I both know what I want to propose. Just make this easier for the both of us."_

_"Not a chance." X glared at EX, who rolled his eyes._

_"Fine." EX sighed, clearly annoyed. "So I know Mumbo is creating a cloning machine," he began._

_"Wait," X cut in. "How do you know that?" There was no possible way for EX to be aware of this. He wasn't in HermitCraft. It should be impossible for him to know things._

_EX grinned. It was clear that he was enjoying knowing something that X didn't. "Just because I'm banned from going_ into _the server doesn't mean I can't peek inside." Before X could ask what the heck that meant, the other continued. "Like I was saying,_ _I_ also _know that you have been having some struggles. Big struggles." He smirked._

_X couldn't truthfully refute this and it ticked him off, having to agree with the other. "Get to the point, EX," he snarled._

_"Well..." EX drew this word out. It was like he was trying purposefully to get X as annoyed as possible, and, to be honest, that was probably what was happening. "What if you tampered with Mumbo's little clone and got it to destr-"_

_X cut him off immediately. "No chance." He knew this would happen. EX had been trying to destroy the server for years now, of course he would use this opportunity to attempt to do it again. He prepared to block out EX, turning away from him, when the meddler said something that caught his attention._

_"Wow, I really thought you cared more about your friends."_

_X whipped back around, fire in his eyes. EX had clearly struck a nerve. "And what do you mean by that? I'm keeping this server afloat specifically_ for _them!" How dare EX claim that X didn't care about his friends! The admin attempted to calm himself. This was what EX did, get a rise out of people for his own benefit. He did this all the time._

 _EX smirked. He leaned forward just enough to make X step back. "Oh? And what about when your precious server breaks down even more? Right now it's only some messed-up ticks, a few weather issues, maybe a mob glitch here and there, but what about, say, a few months, a year from now when the other_ Hermits _start to get affected, hm?" He shrugged, shifting his gears entirely. He crossed his arms and leaned back. "Not that I care, of course."_

_X didn't have a good response to that. Could EX be right? X knew he shouldn't be listening to the evil ex-Hermit, but he just couldn't help but fear that trying to fix things might cause suffering to others later on._

_EX seemed to pick up on X's hesitation. "And deleting the server would guarantee that no-one gets hurt."_

_"And what do you get out of it?" X found himself saying. He couldn't believe he was actually considering this. Destroying HermitCraft, the one thing he spent years and years ensuring wouldn't happen, was an idea that he didn't push away from his mind. What had life come to?_

_"The one thing I've wanted for years is to finally see the HermitCraft server fall. All I've ever wanted was to be rid of that horrid place." EX stared Xisuma right in the eyes as he spoke, his voice serious. It was slightly unnerving, and X swallowed uncomfortably. "If you see this through, then I'll finally have what I want. Heck, if you see this through I'll never bother you nor your friends ever again."_

X sat up in his bed, sweating. The moon was still high in the sky, the night still and quiet. The only sound was his own labored breathing as he stared into the darkness. He clutched the covers just slightly tighter. 

\-----

**2 months earlier**

X had nearly forgotten about his conversations with Mumbo and EX. Nearly. He tried to push them from his mind, and, thankfully, EX hadn't bothered him since he first did a month prior. Then again, Mumbo hadn't either, and it was getting harder and harder to keep the rest of the Hermits from fretting over Mumbo's disappearance while still upholding his promise to the brit. 

That is until his communicator _dinged_ with a message from Mumbo.

_MumboJumbo whispers to you: Hey X could you come down here for a sec? I could use some help_

X gulped as he pulled on his elytra to fly over to Mumbo's base. He had spoken too soon. He arrived there in no more than fifteen minutes, pressing the button to let him down the staircase and descending as quickly as he could without also falling down the flight of stairs. 

Emerging at the bottom, Mumbo was standing next to the machine, looking thoughtful. He turned around at Xisuma's approach with a smile. "Oh, hey, X! Here, have a seat, I wanted to discuss something."

X did as he was told, sitting down on a couch. Mumbo sat down and quickly began. He clearly did not want to waste _any_ time. "So, X, I've finished my machine." 

X raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really? That's great!" He wondered what Mumbo could need, then, if it wasn't any help coding or whatnot. He felt a shock of guilt, remembering what EX had advised him to do. Quickly pushing that thought out of his mind, the admin tried to focus on what Mumbo was saying.

"Yeah, thanks! Anyway, so I tested it out on these apples and it worked brilliantly." Mumbo's voice was bright as he described his success. "There's no difference at all, you can't tell that the cl- duplicates are, well, duplicates!" 

"Just say clones, Mumbo."

Mumbo rolled his eyes jokingly as he continued. "Anyway, I think it's time I can finally get to use it on myself." The redstoner was oddly calm as he talked about testing his machine on himself. Normally, one would generally be less eager to experiment on themself, but X wasn't judging.

Mumbo took a breath, and a slight frown formed on his face. Xisuma could tell that this was where he came in. "Only problem, I can't exactly operate it from the inside." He smiled hopefully. "And I was hoping that you could.... help." 

Crossing his arms, Xisuma raised an eyebrow. "So you want me to activate the machine... with you in it," he confirmed. Something was telling him that this wasn't a great idea. "Have I got that right?"

Nodding, Mumbo was practically bouncing out of his skin as he spoke. "Yup! I've got it all set up, and I'll even talk you through it." He spoke quickly, clearly excited to get down to business. "I just need someone on the outside of the machine to actually work the code."

X was about to agree. He was about to say, 'Sure, Mumbo, but if anything bad happens, it's your fault.' He was about to aid Mumbo in the last step of his plan. But he didn't. No. Instead, EX's words came flooding back to him. And X had another idea.

It wasn't a good idea. Definitely not. It was immoral, it would make Xisuma feel awful, and it would involve betraying Mumbo-- and possibly the rest of the Hermits'-- trust. It would take a good while, and X would have to keep a secret nearly as large as HermitCraft itself. And it might not even work.

"Why don't you just teach me how to do it instead?" X quickly reasoned, "Just show me how to do it a few times just so I can get the hang of it. And of course we can make sure this really is working." He smiled slightly, hopefully. 

And his hopes were answered as Mumbo smiled. It wasn't as enthusiastic as before, but it was something. "Yeah," he agreed with a nod. "Let's do that."

Mumbo showed X how to work the machine. Type this in here when it says this, make sure you select these things, don't forget that semicolon, things like that. X caught on quickly, and after about an hour, the two were ready. After his fifth successful go, X turned to Mumbo. "Well, Mumbo, I think I could do this in my sleep. Are you ready?"

Mumbo nodded glancing at the cell to the left which he was about to step into. Xisuma watched as a flicker of uncertainty flashed on his face before he nodded, grinning widely, masking his concern. X was slightly concerned about this but didn't say anything. After all, he couldn't go through with his plan without Mumbo actually doing this. 

Taking a breath, Mumbo was about to walk into the cell when X's eyes landed on his communicator. "Oh, Mumbo, wait," he began, grabbing Mumbo's arm before he could get inside. Was that a good idea to bring in? It might glitch out; the communicator was incredibly important, and X couldn't risk anything bad happening to it or Mumbo or the clone as a result of the code. "Give me your communicator; I don't know how it'd react to this machine."

Seemingly confused, Mumbo unfastened the communicator from his wrist hand warily handed it to Xisuma. The admin smiled as he shut the door and quickly turned to hide his slight panic. This machine better work. It better not kill Mumbo. If the machine killed Mumbo, things would turn disastrous really quickly.

Because if Mumbo died without his communicator, he wouldn't be coming back. 

So as Xisuma stood at the screen, hesitating for a moment, he took a breath and hoped for the best. But he also just took one more moment to think about what he was about to do. This was his final chance to turn back. To make what was probably the right choice. But he realized that his mind was made long before He stood there for a good minute or two, typing quicker than he had ever before.

He changed something here, added a clause there. He flipped some words around and selected some different buttons. He did pretty much what Mumbo told him, but slightly different. Enough to do what he needed with also avoiding suspicion. If he hadn't felt so guilty, he may have been proud of his work.

Apparently, this was taking a while, as Mumbo called through the door-- which amazingly didn't stop sound from passing through in the slightest-- "Hey, X? Are you good? Do you need help?" His voice seemed to shake a little like he was worried that Xisuma didn't know what he was doing or he messed up or something. 

X quickly responded, "Oh, I'm fine, just taking a bit longer than usual. Almost ready!" Which he was. He just had a bit more to finish up and things would work. After just thirty seconds more, he shouted out. "Done! Brace yourself!" 

And without allowing himself any time to stop and think, he pressed a button to start the machine. 

A bright light filled the room, and X had to shield his eyes, even behind his purple-tinted visor. As the light cleared, the right cell was no longer empty. Instead, there stood a perfect replica of Mumbo, just standing there with his eyes closed. He was extremely unsettling and Xisuma didn't like it. "Hey, Mumbo, I think it worked!" The admin quickly came back over to his friend, to his immense relief, was standing, seemingly perfectly fine-- if not a little disoriented-- in his cell. After handing Mumbo back his communicator, the two walked back over to and stood in front of the other cell, staring at the creation.

But something was off with the figure. He seemed to radiate an orange, maybe amber glow. X didn't remember specifying that. Weird... "Hey, is it glowing?" He asked. Maybe it was just him who could see it? Maybe he was hallucinating.

Apparently not, because Mumbo nodded in agreement. What could be causing it? X subconsciously tensed. It couldn't be something to do with-

He hadn't realized Mumbo was talking until he turned to X, saying, "What, you don't think I'm right?"

Of course, he had no clue if he agreed or disagreed with Mumbo, so he quickly tried to cover up the fact that he zoned out. "No, that's not it," he said, shaking his head. "You are probably right, actually. My point was that, uh, are we sure this will work? The most complex thing we've made was an apple-- this is an entire human. What if it doesn't work, and stays in this.... half-alive state forever?"

Well, that was _part_ of the reason he tensed up, at least. The other part wasn't exactly something he could just say, being that it had to do with the fact that he just coded this AI to aid in HermitCraft's destruction.

Before either of them could say anything more, though, the figure in the cell opened his eyes. The glow seemed to be sucked into the AI, and his eyes nearly were shining, amber with silver specks. They differed from Mumbo's green ones, oddly enough. 

X watched, slightly concerned, slightly intrigued, but mostly just concerned as the figure in the cell began to freak out for a good minute before calming down. X couldn't blame him, coming into existence must be a pain and a half. And he couldn't blame him for what he did next, which was demand an explanation in a voice that was chillingly similar to Mumbo's. 

Seeing Mumbo completely at a loss for words, X quickly jumped in to lend a hand. "Okay, so. I'm XisumaVoid, and this is Mumbo Jumbo. You don't have a name, but you came out of this machine right here." X figured he didn't have to explain all of this, given that the creation was almost definitely self-aware, but Mumbo didn't know that so here he was. "Mumbo here created this cloni- _matter duplication_ device. Very smart. We tested it a bunch with apples, then eventually you happened. And here we are, and here you are."

The creation nodded. And with that initial explanation out of the way, Mumbo and X began filling the other in on the other bits of information, until eventually, X pulled Mumbo over and suggested the two let him out of the cell. They couldn't keep him in there forever, after all. 

Mumbo agreed, and the two let him out. "Wanna come out?" Mumbo offered, opening the door.

After what seemed like a moment of hesitation, the npc said slowly, "Alright." He seemed reluctant to get out, and X noticed he had to prop himself up on the cell. The bee-suited Hermit assumed this would happen; the AI needed to get used to walking, after all. "So this is HermitCraft," he said.

Mumbo seemed shocked that he knew this. The two hadn't mentioned it, after all. X was less surprised, as he had assumed-- and hoped, he would know where he was. X also hoped he'd be bright enough to hold his tongue about his business. Mumbo seemed to take things a step further, inquiring the AI about where he was.

And to be honest, the answer surprised X too. "In the secret room under your base," he said smoothly. He didn't have to think about it, he didn't hesitate at all. He just knew it. Xisuma wondered how. 

And so did Mumbo, as he continued with, "How do you know this?"

This time, X and Mumbo weren't the only ones who were intrigued by the answer. The creation himself seemed even just a bit confused as to how he knew this, falling silent for a good while. And when it finally spoke, X perked up immediately. 

"I remember building it," he said slowly, as if he wasn't quite sure how that made sense. It didn't. That only meant one thing, and that was that this npc, this _clone,_ had Mumbo's memories. And that just didn't make sense. X didn't remember anything like that in the machine. Was that just a general thing that happened? Did that mean that EX had X's memories as well? Once he and the npc could chat, X would bring some things, including this, up.

X stood off to the side. He had to write all of the things he needed to talk with the npc about down. Pulling up his communicator, he switched to a private chat-like function he used to make notes to himself. Generally, they were about glitches he needed to check out, or meetings with other Hermits he had yet to attend. He was jotting a few conversational points down when Mumbo turned to him and said, "Hey X?" 

Xisuma looked up, putting his communicator down. "Yes?" He glanced between Mumbo and the npc. He probably wanted X to leave, which was very disappointing. X was hoping to be able to speak with the npc. "You want me to leave or anything?"

But luck seemed to be on his side today, as Mumbo shook his head. "Do you... want to talk with him?" He offered, moving aside. Yes, that was exactly what Xisuma wanted to do. 

Mumbo moved over to one side of the room to allow the two space to talk. X led the other into a corner. Before he could get a word out, though, the npc began in a quiet voice, "I know what you're about to say and I am ready to do anything at all." After a moment, he continued. "As long as you let me call the shots."

X had to admit, he was surprised. At multiple things, actually. For one, the npc knew exactly what he was meant to do, though the admin supposed that should've been obvious. But he also knew not to discuss it with Mumbo around, for which X was grateful. And another thing, he was insisting that he get to decide how things went down. To be fair, X didn't have a plan himself, but something about letting this AI dictate things didn't rub him right. 

"We will work _together_ on this," X compromised. After a moment of contemplation, the other shrugged. 

"Alright, sounds good." That was easy. Easy enough that X might have been suspicious had he not have had other things on his mind that he wanted to talk about.

"Hey, so I'm gathering that you have Mumbo's memories." X could see this being useful, but also not being useful at all. He couldn't decide. Having this clone know how HermitCraft works would be a huge plus, though it wasn't like Mumbo was in on his plan and would have anything in his memories to pertain to that.

The npc nodded. "Yes, I do. All of his memories."

Now _that_ was interesting phrasing. Generally, when X recruited Hermits, the longer they stayed, the more their memory of their past lives faded away to nothingness. If this npc had all of Mumbo's memories, from even _before_ he joined HermitCraft, that would be interesting. "All of them? From before he joined the server, even?" He also slipped in a mention of the server, to check if this clone actually was self-aware or not.

The AI scowled, and X realized that this was the first time he had seen him do that. He didn't have long to dwell on that, though, as he spoke. "No. I have all of his memories from the moment he entered this server. Not from before, though." That, too, was interesting. 

X couldn't think of any more questions. "You know what to do. Good luck," was all he said before walking back over to Mumbo, who clearly hadn't heard a word of their conversation. "You wanted to speak with me?" He asked. "Heh, I assume my speaking with your clone wasn't the only reason you called on me." He had an idea of what Mumbo might ask of him. 

Mumbo frowned slightly, only noticeable if someone were to be paying attention, at the word 'clone'. "Yeah, actually," he answered, nodding his head. "When you leave, would you mind telling everyone that I am, in fact, alive? I mean, it's been over a month now, been a-" 

X knew that's what he was going to ask and cut him off. He laughed, though it held a hint of uncomfortableness. "Of course I can." Because he wouldn't be doing that at all. 

Trying to push that out of his mind, he changed the subject slightly. "If you'd like I could go now; leave you to your bot. Unless you needed me for anything else?" The Hermit himself didn't need to stay any longer, he had done all he needed. And he didn't _think_ Mumbo would need him for longer; he'd probably want to spend some time with the npc. 

Apparently, X was right, as Mumbo responded, "I'm good for now! You can go if you want."

X nodded. "Alright, see ya, Mumbo!" And before he could stop himself, he pressed the button and ran up the stairs to get out.

As the piston doors closed behind him, X found himself having second thoughts. This was an awful decision. He couldn't erase how beyon excited Mumbo was to see the creation, knowing that it wasn't exactly as he thought. Xisuma kept having to remind himself that this was for the good of everyone, that everything would work out in the end.

But he just couldn't shake the thought that _he_ himself might be the actual Evil XisumaVoid.

That night, he didn't have any dreams at all.

\-----

**Present day**

Xisuma nodded at Sage. He knew this was coming. He'd be the one to ensure that Grian and Scar wouldn't come down again. Hooray. He loved his job.

For the last two months, X had been making through this with the sole reminder that this was for everyone's wellbeing, that he wasn't an awful person. He ignored Mumbo's betrayed look as he realized that X wasn't on his side. He pushed away the guilt of having to cover for Sage as he adjusted to other people. He disregarded the thought that everyone would hate him. And he shut out the fear that HermitCraft would crash and burn in its glitches before Sage's plan had a chance to come to light.

Speaking of, X asked, "So Sage, any progress?" 

The clone scowled slightly, his grin wiped from his face. "No, it's still not working. Could you come look at it when you have time?"

X nodded. The admin himself would probably be better suited for this anyway. "Yeah, I have time." 

The cat on Sage's lap purred. "I dunno what we would do without you," she said in her usual cooing voice. It got annoying after awhile, had found a good bit ago. She stood up and stretched before jumping off of Sage's lap. "Well, this has been entertaining, but I better go. I've got to find a new Hermit to bother." The cat then disappeared down the hallway X had entered from, leaving Sage staring after her with a slightly concerned expression on his face.

"Be careful, now that-" but Sage could obviously tell that Citrus couldn't hear him, and he furrowed his brow. "Don't die," he muttered to himself. He glanced over at X. "I'm just worried that Scar or Grian will kill her." This was a definite shift in attitude; Sage fretted over Citrus's well-being like X would to any of his close friends.

X couldn't exactly give a reassuring response to this, because he couldn't say for certain whether or not he'd-- at least attempt to-- get rid of the cat if he was in his friends' shoes. Instead, he just mumbled an agreement, before changing the subject. "So let's see this sword, shall we?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope all of you lovelies enjoyed seeing a different side of the story. Who knew things could get so convoluted so quickly?
> 
> Anyway, thanks for coming, and I'll see you next time, my little Readers!
> 
> Promise out!


	20. ~Chapter Nineteen~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Promise does more keyboard headsmashing

Scar's POV-

Scar stared down at Bee, who shifted uncomfortably. "I- You probably have a lot of questions," the bird mumbled, fluffing her feathers. She refused to look at the wizard, instead fixing her gaze on his starry hat.

The Hermit's voice was tight. "You think?" He wasn't sure why he was being so harsh on her. Part of him just felt like she had betrayed his trust somehow. 

This seemed to make the parrot more flustered, and she flapped her wings, speaking quickly. "I'm sorry, okay? But _you're_ the one who refused to listen to me!" She seemed mildly anxious and kept plucking at her feathers with her beak. 

Scar sat back in his chair, still glaring at the bird. " _Maybe_ you should have explained _before_ we left." 

"I _tried,_ " Bee exclaimed, her voice cracking. "I tried to tell you and then you got distracted and didn't listen to me! I tried to warn you!" She hopped forward a bit, trembling.

She did, didn't she? She was trying to talk to Scar about Sage. He frowned inwardly. Something about her being connected to him rubbed Scar in the completely wrong way. The wizard couldn't help but feel mistrustful of the bird. He remained silent, a slight scowl forming on his face. 

Bee obviously did _not_ like this. She drew a deep breath, and it was obvious that this was all out of her comfort zone. "Look, Scar, I'm sorry. I-If you want, I can explain what I was trying to say. Anything you want to know." 

That was fair. Scar still wasn't yet sure if he could trust Bee, but maybe she was telling the truth. He could hear her out. "...okay," he agreed at last. 

Bee seemed instantly relieved. She visibly settled, nodding. "Okay. What do you want to know first?"

After just a moment of thought, Scar knew what he would ask first. "Okay, what is your relationship with Sage?" 

"Well," Bee said reluctantly. "That's a pretty broad question. But o-okay." She thought for a second, before launching into a clearly abbreviated explanation. "So awhile back, maybe a week or two before he even emerged, Sage had a grand idea to make a little mole. A spy." She gestured to herself. "That would be me."

Scar didn't realize how tight he was clutching his robe until he let go of it to sit forward a bit. A mole. That's what she was. He narrowed his eyes slightly, and the bird chirped before continuing.

"But, ah, Sage isn't- isn't really that great at coding. He's got some m-memories and all, but those aren't, well it's not like he actually _knows_ things." Bee shifted constantly while talking, hopping back and forth on the table. 

Scar butt in. "Coding?" She couldn't mean...

She _did_ mean. "You know what a cloning machine is, right?" Bee seemed keen to get past this part. Scar grimaced, nodding. He had been correct. 

Before he could say anything, however, Bee continued. "So, yeah. Well, he kinda, well, he screwed me up pretty bad. I can't speak directly with humans, I'm not, y'know, _evil_ -" She faltered on that last word as if she wasn't quite sure whether or not it was true. The hen paused for a moment, regaining her composure, before continuing. 

"But he still liked me. It was like I was a pet. Just a bird created from another bird's being-- oh that one's fine, by the way. He released it-- with little to nothing special about it at all." She seemed almost reminiscent, her voice quieter than before, but not with fear. It was like a part of her missed that. Scar didn't know how to feel about that. She knew he was awful, she knew he was evil. So why would she feel like that? It baffled the Hermit. "He called me Honey, because, well, food. He likes naming things after food, apparently," she continued, yanking Scar from his contemplation. 

Scar nodded along with her tale. Okay, so that was all fine and good. "But you are obviously not there anymore." 

This seemed to worry the bird, as she began tripping over her words again. "I- well, I es-escaped. I escaped and left-- wait that's the same word-- and lived out- out in the wild. I kinda changed my name, y'know, I didn't exactly want to keep the name Sage gave me, and, well eventually I came across y-"

Scar cut her off. "Really? You escaped," he asked, raising his eyebrow with a skeptical expression. Was she lying?

Bee opened her beak, before shutting it, before opening it again. "O-okay, I _kinda_ escaped. I was let out. And then I never went back. There."

Something still felt off to Scar. It didn't sit with him right. But he let it go, and just said, "Okay. Sure. Anything else?"

Shaking her head quickly, the bird answered in a tight voice. "No, not anything in particular. I've, well I've been mostly trying to avoid him, as you could guess." Scar nodded slowly, furrowing his brow. That.. didn't add up. "Any other questions?"

"Yes," Scar answered. His tone was dim, and Bee visibly recoiled, as if she was anticipating an unreasonable question. "You knew what would happen when we went to Mumbo's. How? And why didn't you just say that?" If she had avoided Sage, how would she know about the trap? It didn't make sense.

Scar knew this was definitely not a question she wanted to answer. She hopped back a bit, taking a breath. "I- Oh- I- Well..." She stammered, making nonsensical chirps as she obviously tried to figure out how to phrase what she was going to say. Scar narrowed his eyes slightly. "You- you know Citrus? Sage's little c-cat?"

Scar knew Citrus, alright. The cat who impersonated Jellie for a week. With the shock of everything, Scar hadn't quite had enough time to process things. And now he knew that both his kitten and Mumbo were trapped somewhere, he began to feel sick. "Yeah." His voice was ice cold, and Scar stiffened as he spoke.

Nodding, Bee continued. "Well, I- Well I've run into her on various occasions because, well she doesn't want to leave me alone _ever_. And sh-she's not great at shutting up either." The bird got faster as she spoke. "And she kinda- kinda spilled that something was up at the base. I- I didn't know what, exactly, but..." She trailed off, her gaze fixing on a grain of the wooden table. 

Scar was still skeptical. Something about her didn't sit right with him. But he wouldn't be getting any answers, would he? The wizard sighed. He could see Bee was getting almost hysterical, and Scar himself was just so drained from that day. "Okay," he said calmly. His breath was rasped, and his face was paled with fatigue. "I believe you." Was that true? Scar decided it was. 

He stood up, turning away. He began to say, 'Let's go,' but he stopped himself. The Hermit had an idea. He turned back to the bird, who tilted her head. "But you're going to help me take him down."

" _What?!_ " Bee hopped forward frantically. "Scar, that's an awful idea, you've seen him and what he can do, we couldn't possibly-"

But Scar had already made up his mind. The wizard's words were final. "We can, and we will. We're going to figure out how to take him out together. You and me."

Shaking her head, the bird opened her beak to protest, but shut it after a moment, evidently realizing that Scar wouldn't be changing his mind. "...fine," she agreed at last. "But we're not doing any sort of heroics or anything. If-- when-- Sage finds out, we're going to have a lot of trouble..." She mumbled this last part, and Scar wasn't completely sure whether or not the words were meant for him.

"We'll stay under the radar, I promise." For now, at least. Scar couldn't shake Sage's calm and creepy smile when he reminded him and Grian to not say a peep to anyone else. And while the wizard would normally disregard that, something told him it'd be best to keep quiet. 

This seemed to relieve Bee greatly, as the bird settled, nodding. "Okay." 

...

The rest of the day was uneventful, just as Scar had hoped it'd be. Bee flew off to her nest, and Scar tried to take his mind off things by working on his magic project. It wasn't going as well as he hoped. 

Soon enough, the sky had dimmed to a deep purple. The sun had retreated into the ground and the moon replaced it, hanging in the sky, shining brightly. Scar was beyond tired, and with what he had planned for the next day, the wizard figured he should get at least a little sleep that night. 

Climbing into bed, he almost forgot to remove his pendant. Sitting back up, the wizard removed his hat and unpinned the magic translator. He was about to lie back down when he noticed something about the pendant that he hadn't before. The yellow pendant shined brightly, illuminating the pitch-dark room with a bright glow. But something was off about it. The more Scar stared at it, the more he realized that the pendant seemed to be flickering. Not the glow, but the entire thing itself. As if it couldn't decide whether it wanted to exist or not.

Scar was tired, wasn't he? 

Yeah, that must be it. The wizard placed the pendant gently in his pouch and lay back down, soon drifting off to sleep. 

_Scar blinked as he glanced around. Hm, this didn't seem normal. He was standing in the middle of a forest, surrounded by bees. Yes, bees. Huh. He couldn't seem to recall how he got here, or why there were so many bees. Why were there so many bees? "Hello, bees," he called out, confused. "Why are you here?"_

_The nearest bee turned to the Hermit. Its eyes flickered red and Scar stepped back. But they soon returned to normal and the bee never attacked the wizard. "Beware bees," it said before turning back._

_Confused, Scar cocked his head. "Why?" But he got no answer._

Scar awoke to the sun shining through a window. That was an odd dream. He thought it was, at least. What was his dream again? He remembered something about bees being ominous. Hm, strange. Well, he didn't really need to dwell on that. Not right now, at least. Right now, he had business to do. 

Checking his pouch, the Hermit retrieved the heart-shaped crystal, glowing a vibrant pink. He smiled as he pulled up his communicator. 

_< GoodTimesWithScar> Hey Iskall, want to meet up?_

Not five minutes later, as Scar was finishing packing up some foodstuffs into his bag, his communicator _dinged_ with a message.

_< Iskall85> Yes! I'm free now  
_ _< Iskall85> Come to Grumbot's platform?_

After replacing the precious crystal in his pouch, Scar quickly typed out a response confirming the place. He could hardly contain his excitement; this was easily his most difficult creation yet. Now was the real test-- to see if it worked. 

\--------

Iskall's POV-

Grinning widely, the Hermit awaited Scar's arrival. He stood behind Grumbot's large, mechanical body, where a much smaller robot shell leaned up against it. It had a multitude of wires connected to its back, connecting it to the big form.

It had come out perfectly. With a large, square head, a computer screen buzzed with ones and zeros. Atop its head sat a mop of dirty blonde hair, and an antenna stuck out of it, topped with a red bulb. It was like a smaller version of the original build. Its body was made entirely of gray sheets of metal, with different panels of darker gray across it. The anatomy of it strongly resembled that of a human; the bot had arms with hands with five fingers each, and it had two legs, though it seemed like it was wearing boots. It was about half a foot shorter than Iskall. On its chest was a wide gray panel with a blank screen. 

But Iskall didn't have much time to admire his handiwork as a certain Scar came flying in. He landed just next to Iskall, barely missing the swede as he crashed not-so-gracefully to the ground. Iskall barely held back a snicker as he helped his friend up. "Hallo, Scar," he greeted warmly. 

Scar smiled at Iskall, though there was something hidden far beneath that seemed a bit off. "Hell, Iskall," he said. Gesturing to Grumbot's soon-to-be new body, he asked, "I assume this is what I was needed for?"

The swede nodded. "Yes, yes it is!" As he spoke, Scar dug through his inventorial pouch to pull out a crystal. It was heart-shaped and glowed pink. Quite honestly, it was exactly what one would picture a crystal containing life to look like. "Woah..." He marveled at the crystal and Scar chuckled.

"This took a while," he admitted. "I hope it works!" Iskall nodded in agreement. It would be rather anticlimatic if the crystal decided it wouldn't work after all this effort was put into making it.

"Only one way to find out." Iskall stepped up to the panel on the bot's chest and pressed in a little bit. A small compartment was revealed, a glass box-like thing with what seemed to be a pressure plate at the bottom of it. Scar handed Iskall the crystal with the warning to be very careful with it, and the swede gently placed it into the compartment. He pressed on the panel again and the compartment shut, fixating the crystal in place.

Iskall stepped back and the two waited a moment, before Scar asked, "So what exactly is supposed to happen?" Iskall narrowed his eyes. _Something_ should have happened. So why didn't it? He walked back up to the form and looked over it. It seemed to be.... vibrating. It began to vibrate more and Iskall stepped back again.

"I think something is definitely happening," he said. Iskall's eye widened as the screen on Grumbot's head flickered for a moment before two bright blue eyes appeared, along with a bright blue moustache. It looked nearly identical to Grumbot's screen on his large body, except this was much more dynamic, flickering as it moved to different sides. It blinked. It was a lot less stationary. 

Iskall was _thrilled._ And so, apparently, was Scar, as the Hermit gasped. "It worked," he exclaimed. "Oh gosh, it worked!"

"That's so omega!" Iskall was grinning from ear to ear. "Hallo, Grumbot," he said, stepping forward. He held his hand out, and the other tentatively took it, nodding. His eyes were wide. "How are you feeling?" The swede asked.

Even though Grumbot didn't seem to have a mouth, a slightly robotic, but mostly human voice came out. " _Disorientated, but overall alright_." It came out as a sort of yell, and all three people there jumped. 

Scar stared, amazed, at the creation. He still seemed shocked that what he had done was successful. "Hey, Iskall, those wires," he pointed out. "Do you..."

Oh, right, the wires. They had just been for transferring information, but that had finished a while back. "Right. Grum, I'm going to just get those off of you. Alright?"

" _Sounds great,_ " the bot agreed. After Iskall had safely taken them off, Grumbot stretched and tested out his legs. Oddly enough, he didn't say a word. Iskall didn't know what he expected, but he figured something would come up. After all, he had been stuck in an unmoving position for months. 

Scar seemed to notice too, as he muttered to the swede, "He's not very talkative." Iskall nodded in agreement.

"Hey, Grumbot," he called. Grumbot glanced up. "You doing alright?"

The bot nodded. " _Yeah, why?_ " His voice was still yelly, but Grumbot seemed to be attempting to get it under control. 

Iskall shrugged. "You just aren't talking much, and I was, er, concerned." 

Grumbot shrugged but didn't say anything. This was thoroughly confusing. he was just talking when Iskall asked him a question, so why not now?

That's when he realized.

"Hey, Grum." The bot looked up. "You can't talk unless you're asked a question, can you?"

An instant response. "Nope. Same as always." 

"Oh." That was a slight issue. 

Scar seemed unsurprised by this. "Well that's disappointing," he remarked. Glancing over, Iskall saw a frown form on his face. "I don't suppose there's any way to fix that."

Shaking his head, Iskall realized that there probably wasn't. And even if there was, he would run the risk of accidentally causing more harm, and that was something he really didn't want to do. The swede stood up straighter. "Well, we'll find a way to work around it." After a second, he added, "Right, Grum?"

The bot nodded. "Hopefully." Without warning, the bot walked up to Iskall and gave him a hug before stepping back. His eyes tilted slightly with happiness. 

Iskall turned to thank Scar for his help, but realized with a start that the wizard was no longer there. "Wh-" Where did he go? Why did he leave without even saying goodbye? What was that about? Iskall hadn't even heard him leave.

Deciding that he'd check in with him later, the swede put back on a smile and turned back to Grumbot, who also seemed confused. "So what do you think about saying hi to Grian?"

"I'd like that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You have no idea how long this chapter has been waiting in my brain to write.
> 
> In other news, Unrecognizable officially has a Discord server now! Why? I'm not entirely sure myself, but I thought it might be fun. Join if you so wish, but don't feel pressured or anything! I hope to see you there!
> 
> https://discord.gg/tmZ3fu3dj7
> 
> Anyway, thanks for coming, and I'll see you in the next one, my little Readers!
> 
> Promise out!


	21. ~Chapter Twenty~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Promise neglects her schoolwork and writes about a robot instead

**Earlier that day**

Grumbot's POV-

He knew something was up. He also knew _what_ was up. Iskall wasn't one for secrecy. And so He knew that soon enough He'd be out of this large body. He also knew that He wouldn't be having a choice in the matter. But then again, given the choice, He knew that He'd choose this. Being stuck in one position for months gets old after a while. 

So He was hardly upset by this. Well, mostly. He _was_ going to miss communicating with His younger brother, though. Through the electrical bond between the two robots, they could effortlessly communicate. Even if, in reality, it was just a flurry of numbers, Grumbot could hear it as if it were words. The bot had grown accustomed to the nearly constant stream of chatter from Jrumbot, and, if He was being completely honest, He had grown to like the hour-long conversations about pretty much nothing at all. It was hard to believe that they would be over soon. 

Speak of the devil, Jrumbot's childish voice was soon speaking in Grumbot's mind again. It was squeaky and loud, like a five-year-old singing a nonsensical song while pretending to know the words. 

_Hey Gwumbot! Gwumbot, hey Gwumbot!_

The voice resonated inside Grumbot's mechanical mind. If Grumbot could audibly laugh, He would. Even if the littler robot was annoying at times, Grumbot still adored him. He reached out to the other bot to answer.

_Yes, Jrumbot? What is it this time?_

He feigned annoyance, which always got a rise out of Jrumbot. Highly entertaining for the older bot. Jrumbot whined slightly.

_What? Why awe you so mad? What did I do?_

He would miss this, He decided. He'd miss being able to just talk like this. And maybe He wouldn't have to. Maybe in the new body that Iskall was piecing together for Him, He'd still be able to reach out and talk to Jrumbot. One could only hope. He didn't mention any of this to Jrumbot.

_I'm not mad, Jrumby. I'm just joking. What did you want to tell me?_

As much as He loved messing with the younger bot, He did feel just a touch bad for worrying Him. Darned moral compass. Jrumbot's tone instantly lightened, and He was back to his normal self.

_Oh, okay! Well, guess who I saw today!_

Grumbot didn't exactly know what He was expecting, but to be honest, this seemed about right. Jrumbot always got excited about little things like seeing someone he hadn't in a while or seeing a pretty bird fly by. He was very easily pleased. 

_Who?_

Internally raising an eyebrow-- that was something the Hermit's did sometimes, the bot was genuinely interested in who Jrumbot saw. Well, maybe it was mostly because when Jrumbot didn't know someone's name, He'd make up silly descriptions of them. One of his favorites was his description for Jevin, "The blue slimy one that I can almost see through with the white sweatshirt". 

_I saw Poppa!_

Oh no, who was that again? Grumbot could never remember who Jrumbot was referring to when he spoke about his and Grumbot's dads. Was it Grian? Or Mumbo?

Mumbo. Just the thought of the moustached man made Grumbot sick. Because, as He had quite often told Grian, He had no clue where his dad was. This person walking around, it wasn't Mumbo, no matter how hard it tried to convince the others otherwise. It hadn't even tried to convince Grumbot, just simply showing up one day and offering the robot a chance to join its team. Like He would ever willingly go against his dads and the rest of the Hermits. But that never stopped Sage-- disgusting name, it was like it was trying to mock Mumbo Jumbo by having a name that meant nearly the exact opposite of his-- from coming back time and time again. 

But He could never tell Jrumbot that. It would break his little heart. And Sage wasn't doing anything to harm either of them, so what's the point in worrying the little bot for no reason? Grumbot couldn't bring Himself to tell the younger robot the truth.

_Oh? You saw Grian?_

_No, silwy! I saw Mumbo!_

Of course. But He couldn't help but wonder what the fake Mumbo wanted from Jrumbot. As if like magic, Jrumbot continued, telling Grumbot exactly what He was wondering. That's convenient. 

_And he came to bowwow a few of my diamonds and say 'hi'! ...I miss people saying 'hi'... No-one eveh comes and visits me anymowe._

That got surprisingly gloomy for the young bot. He had never mentioned being lonely before. Grumbot felt a pang of guilt. The knowledge that his younger brother would soon most likely be even more lonely pained Grumbot even more. Jrumbot wouldn't have anyone to talk to once Grumbot got disconnected. The poor child. 

Grumbot should probably tell his brother about what would happen soon, shouldn't He? Probably. The bot realized that He had been silent for a hot second and quickly began, 

_I'm sorry, Jrumb-_

But Jrumbot cut Him off, his tone shifting back to happy-go-lucky, as usual. It was as if a switch was licked, and the melancholy voice of before was turned off and replaced by a bubbly one instead. 

_No wowwy, Gwummy!_ You _talk to me, and das okay!_

Oh, no. 

Grumbot chuckled nervously. Now would be as good a time as any, would it not? But as the bot tried to reach out to the younger and share his news, He couldn't seem to find the words, nor the heart. And it seemed He wouldn't have much time to do so, as another Hermit came flying in. 

Grumbot recognized him. It was Scar, the wizard. He was the one Iskall was enlisting to help with Grumbot's new vessel. He was _also_ a former competitor in the mayoral race when that was still going on. The bot had since forgiven him for going against his father, of course. He wasn't cruel, and Scar was actually a fun Hermit, all mayoral things aside. 

And if he was here, that meant that Grumbot's body was nearly complete. As Grumbot stood, facing forward, He heard voices from behind Him. The voices were too muffled for the bot to make out. But soon enough, He heard something that sounded like 'One way to find out'. It must be time.

Grumbot immediately felt a sense of something He rarely felt. Dread. He found Himself dreading this. Not because He was worried it wouldn't work. Because He was dreading the change. This was all He ever knew, this solitary state. The thought of changing that sent an unwelcome fear through Him. And then there was Jrumbot. He was dreading leaving the smaller robot. 

_Jrumbot..._

Grumbot immediately knew what He wanted to say.

_Jrumbot, I don't have much time, and I want t-_

But He didn't have enough time to say it. Because He felt something shift. It was a feeling He didn't know how to describe. It was like when He overheated, but it didn't burn. It was almost comfortable. It was almost nice. And He felt this, and soon He began to feel only this. He was floating. His surroundings, the platform He stood on, dimmed until nothing was there at all other than a black blanket covering His vision. And the voice He had grown so used to, Jrumbot's, began to drift off.

_Gwummy? Gwumbot? What's wwong?_

Like He was leaving.

_Gwumbot, did I say somefing wwong? Awe you mad at me?_

And it was like Grumbot was far underwater, and Jrumbot's voice was far, far away, above the surface. 

_Gwumbot, I'm sowwy I don't know what I did but I'm sowwy just say somefing please Gwummy just teww me what's wwong!_

And then it was silent. Grumbot couldn't feel anything. He couldn't hear anything. He couldn't see anything. Even His own thoughts were dulled and distant. Everything was slow. Was this what death felt like? Hm.

But no. Something somewhere started moving. He could feel it. He wasn't sure where He could feel it, he didn't seem to have a concrete body to pinpoint where the sensation was from. It was just there. It wasn't pleasant, nor unpleasant. It wasn't welcome or unwelcome. It just was. But then it spread. It wormed its way, covering Grumbot, its intensity only growing by the moment. It was like a buzzing, a sizzling. But it didn't hurt, no, it didn't. It almost felt nice.

And then.... light. And so much of it. It flooded Grumbot's vision. Just pure white, blinding light. Soaking Grumbot in a firey sight. But ever so slowly, it faded away, and Grumbot could take in His surroundings. 

Everything seemed so much bigger than he remembered. The Hermits He so often looked down upon now stood level with Him. He glanced up to see the back of His body, His huge, ginormous, old body. Wow, from down here it was so large, so imposing. Was that really what He looked like? And he could see the Hermits so clearly now. He could clearly see Iskall's cyborg-esque eye, and Scar's starred hat. He could see the plates of metal that formed the machine. And He could see Himself. 

Grumbot Himself was a marvel. He now had four limbs-- two arms and two legs. And He could move _all_ of them. This new body seemed to be made of the same material as His old one. No wonder He hardly felt different, all things aside. On His chest was a screen. A pink crystal glowed, and what looked to be something of a heart monitor was visible. Incredible. On His back was a series of wires connecting Him to His body. What were those for? He wasn't sure, but He didn't attempt to move anywhere, for fear of snapping one and causing something to happen to Him. Something about having a body made the robot feel so good inside. It made Him feel closer to the Hermits, no longer like an outcast. He was content.

He could hear as well. Iskall and Scar were fawning over the fact that this was a success. It was nice to have that. But there was something-- or rather, the absence of something-- that felt odd and unnatural. It was the lack of Jrumbot in his mind. He had grown accustomed to the little kid never leaving Him alone. 

He missed Jrumbot.

Grumbot tried to push that out of His mind as Iskall turned to Him. "Hallo, Grumbot. How are you feeling?"

Ah, this was a familiar feeling. Like a jolt in the back of his head. A question. Something in the back of His mechanical mind clicked. He would answer now. But this time, He didn't have a paper to throw out. No, He had a voice. And somehow, He already knew how to use it. " _Disorientated, but overall alright_."

 _That was loud._ It seemed that Grumbot hadn't yet gotten out of His old habits of screaming everything. Why did He do that? He had no idea. Perhaps it had to do with the way He was coded. Whatever it was, it was annoying. At least it sounded alright. 

Pretty soon, Grumbot had His wires off. He could actually move, and He soon realized that legs were _hard_ to handle. The Hermits made it look so easy, just flaunting around on their legs, and Grumbot was struggling to even stay up. He began to move His legs around.

Seeing all of this, moving His legs, moving His arms, moving His head, everything suddenly felt so... real. It was no longer a thought, a future. No, this was now. And Grumbot was.... well, He wasn't sure how He felt about it. It was bittersweet. The large body was all He ever knew. It was so sudden. But the bot was thankful for Iskall and Scar. He turned back to the two and... and... 

What was going on? He tried to thank them, to say something. He knew how to speak. He just did it a moment ago! The answer soon dawned on Him. He had never been able to speak freely, had He? He was always just an answering bot. He could only ever communicate with the Hermits when He was asked a question. Nothing was different now. That was very disappointing, but what could He do? At least He could move. Yeah, at least He could move. If anything, He had that.

He hadn't truly been paying attention to the Hermits; He was mostly just exploring what his new body could do. But when He felt a jolt, He perked up. Iskall was asking Him if He was alright.

He was, right? Yeah. As far as He knew, He was pretty fine. " _Yeah,_ " He answered. His voice was still strained, still yelling. He really had to work on that. The bot finished with a question of His own. " _Why?_ "

The swede was obviously taken aback by this, and to be honest, Grumbot couldn't blame him. He explained quickly, "You just aren't talking much, and I was, er, concerned."

Right. Of course that was it. Grumbot shrugged. It wasn't like He could say anything in response. The bot folded his arms as Iskall narrowed his eyes slightly at Him, scrutinizing Him. He seemed utterly confused. Grumbot wished He could help, He did. But no, it was just like before; Grumbot could just watch helplessly unless specifically asked something. It was a lot more annoying when He thought of it like that.

After a moment, the bot glanced away, off into the ocean. That was nice. Grumbot had never quite gotten a chance to see the ocean, despite being stationed on it for so long. So many sunsets had passed behind Him, yet He couldn't see a singular one. He liked sunsets, the sky turning orange and pink, then purple, then black. Maybe He'd get a chance to actually witness the action soon. 

Jerking him out of His thoughts was Iskall, calling His name. Grumbot looked over at Iskall, who seemed like he just figured out something huge. He spoke slowly. "You can't talk unless you're asked a question... can you?" 

A jolt. Aha, there it was. " _Nope. Same as always_."

"Oh." He was clearly disappointed. Scar also was disappointed, but he seemed much less surprised than Iskall had. 

Shaking his head, the wizard turned to Iskall. "I don't suppose there's any way to fix that," he said offhandedly. Iskall shook his head. If Grumbot could sigh, He would do so. So He was stuck like this forever. Hooray. 

"Well, we'll find a way to work around it," Iskall claimed definitively. He stood up straighter and turned to Grumbot. It was like this was some sort of challenge. 'Can Iskall and Grumbot work together without simple communication skills?' Probably not, as Iskall had seemingly forgot about Grumbot's inability to agree before quickly saying, "Right, Grum?"

Having pupils would be very useful in that moment. " _Hopefully._ " His voice was still yelly, but not as bad as it had been before. He almost tried to thank the Hermit again. It seemed Grumbot Himself forgot too. Woops. Without another moment's thought, Grumbot walked forward and gave Iskall a hug. If only He had a mouth to smile with.

He stepped back and turned to Scar... or the absence of Scar, that is. Where did he go? He was just here a moment ago, right? Grumbot would have to find him later to thank him. Come to think of it, Scar _had_ seemed a bit... distant. The bot frowned internally. Was something up with the wizard? Hm.

He was jolted out of His thoughts by a literal jolt from Iskall asking a question. "So what do you think about saying hi to Grian?"

Grumbot had hardly thought about Grian and Mumbo; they had slipped His mind entirely. The prospect of seeing Grian now, in His new body, both excited and unnerved Him. What if Grian didn't like it? Surely he would-- he was Grumbot's dad, he'd like Grumbot however he looked like. Right?

He tempered down his thoughts. "Yeah," he answered, in almost a normal voice. "I'd like that."

Iskall grinned and pulled up his wrist. A silver band was strapped to it, looking almost like a bracelet. To Grumbot's amazement, the swede tapped it and a screen fizzled into existence. The screen showed a bunch of words from different Hermits. Grumbot wasn't the best at reading backward, but He saw what seemed to be a conversation between Iskall and Scar. He watched as Iskall typed out a message to his dad. 

_.uoy wohs ot gnihtemos evah I ?mroftalp s'tobmurG ot emoc ,nairG yeH <58llaksI>_

Iskall kept his gaze trained expectantly on the device, but the message just sat there. Nothing else happened. "He should respond in a few minutes," the swede said with a shrug. Grumbot nodded. He had to admit, He was slightly concerned. The last time He and Grian had spoken, it didn't end on the most positive note. The bot shuddered at the memory of it. What if Grian didn't want to speak with Him? He hoped nothing had happened to His dad. 

He was being overdramatic about this all, no doubt. The bot just taking a minute or two of no response from His dad way too seriously. He had to be. 

"Would you like to see Mumbo instead?" Iskall offered with a smile that was just a bit too stretched.

Of course Grumbot wanted to see Mumbo. But He wanted to see _Mumbo_ , not the person Iskall was surely referencing. And by the way Iskall spoke, it seemed he wasn't really intent on doing so either. Interesting. He couldn't possibly know anything, right? "Not particularly," the robot answered honestly. It seemed Iskall was hoping this would be the answer, as a small, almost relieved, smile formed on his face.

"Is there anything _you_ want to do?" Iskall asked after sneaking a glance at his device, which hadn't yet changed. 

Grumbot immediately knew what He wanted to do. "I want to go to Jrumbot's shop." Even if He couldn't speak with the little bot anymore, the least He could do was go visit and reassure Jrum that He was okay. 

One small issue. Grumbot had no clue how to work the elytra wings. And He wasn't too thrilled with the prospect of finding out what should happen if He, a robot, should fall into water. Or crash. Or anything bad, really. After a moment of thought, Iskall came up with a grand idea. It's called a boat. Until Grumbot could learn how to use an elytra, He'd do this bit on a boat. He'd learn how to fly soon enough. 

Eventually, Grumbot was standing just outside of Jrumbot's shop, with Iskall having wandered off to check out some shops. He stared up at His brother's machine and gave a little wave. If Grumbot didn't know what He was looking for, He might've missed the flicker on Jrumbot's screen. Grumbot couldn't say anything. He couldn't reach out and communicate to Jrumbot. He couldn't smile or grin or hug His brother. He just stood on the path, staring up at the bot's screen, hoping that He could convey everything without all of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not getting emotional over fictional robots, you are!
> 
> BAH. I've got no witty remarks this time. Thanks for coming, and I'll see you next time, my little Readers.
> 
> Promise out!


	22. ~Chapter Twenty-One~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Promise stays up far too late to write and refuses to proofread

**One day earlier**

Citrus's POV-

Citrus grinned coyly. "Memory is a powerful thing, Scar." And, without waiting for a reply from the wizard she had been fooling for a week, she turned around and ascended back into the hallway and up the steps from which she came, eventually emerging into a room. In it were a few chairs, a crafting bench, a furnace, all the essentials. "I'm finished," she declared to the form resting on one of the chairs. "This is fun."

Sage chuckled, standing up. "It sure is." His eyes glinted maliciously. "Thanks for giving them a nice introduction; I'll take it from here." He then walked around her, disappearing into the darkness that leas to the little trap room. She smiled after him, purring. She certainly hadn't been expecting two visitors quite so soon, but for once she was glad that Sage hadn't listened to her. She supposed he was the boss for a reason. 

But after a moment of standing, she got bored. There was no-one here, Void had gone somewhere or other, and the adrenaline was beginning to wear off, leaving Citrus unbearably bored out of her wits. But then, she remembered something. Well, not some _thing_ , but some _one_. For the kitty had caught the little birdie Bee accompanying the two cheating Hermits. Perhaps she could pay her a little _visit_. 

She quickly exited the room using another door, pressing a handy button that had been installed to open the door-- and keep it open for a fair amount of time-- and ascending the steps. Her tail flicked mischievously as she emerged out the top where the outside was ready to greet her with warmth and sunlight. 

But enough time spent on that, she had a target. The cat wandered outside, scanning everywhere with her keen gaze to try and find that amber-eyed, traitorous, codfish-eating bird. And it didn't take too long, as Bee was simply hanging about the base, undoubtedly waiting for the Hermits to emerge. Citrus laughed to herself as she approached. "Hello, Honeybee," she greeted with a flick of her tail. She drew out each syllable dramatically, her high-pitched voice piercing the air like a knife. The cockatiel followed her every movement, visibly upset. Citrus circled the bird, keeping her eyes fixed on the other's the whole time. Oh, how she wished she could simply pounce on the bird and finish the job right here, but that might not be the best idea. "Fancy seeing you here."

The bird chirped, her beak snapping with every note. Citrus simply laughed. Bee wasn't saying anything nice; Citrus didn't have to understand her to know that. And that just made it all the funnier. "You know I don't, and frankly don't care to, understand you, birdie. Besides, why are you so mad? I just wanted to say 'hi'." She stepped forward suddenly, baring her teeth. Bee jumped back with a flutter of her wings. Her tiny chest started moving quicker, and she was almost quivering at this point. "Y'know, they say a criminal always returns to the scene of the crime, but I didn't think you'd bring two others with you. Was this really your plan all along? To bring the two most meddlesome Hermits straight to the root of the problem? I thought you were brighter than that."

This only got her more angry chattering. Bee stepped forward-- gutsy-- and narrowed her eyes. Citrus simply continued to circle the parrot, like a bird of prey, taunting the bird as she went. Perhaps this wasn't as fun as simply killing her, but it was entertaining nonetheless. After a few minutes, though, Citrus glanced away from her toy to see two figures emerging from the base. "Well, that's my cue to leave. Nice chat, Birdbrain." And with that, she dashed off around the side of the base to go back in.

\---

Oh, no. This could _not_ be happening. The cat bounded up the spiral staircase and out into the sunny outside. She shielded her eyes, her pupils dilating to adjust to the new natural light. This was really not good. As the floor closed beside her, she began to pace. Back and forth. Oh, Citrus, what now? Back and forth. What would you do now? Back and forth. What use were you now that your entire job was just voided?

The reality of what had just happened had finally set in. Sure, taunting the Hermits was fun and all, but now it had finally clicked that _this was it._ She had, up until now, spent her time spying on Scar and living with him during the day. But now that Scar knew about everything... well, maybe not everything, but the point still stood... she couldn't exactly continue that. You can't spy on someone who knows exactly what you're doing.

Citrus stopped her movement, turning to look outside of the base she had grown so familiar with. The sun shone through the huge open doorway. The air was silent, save for the soft hum of distant redstone and the _woosh_ of the waterfalls still flowing off of the base. It seemed as though the sky knew nothing of her troubles and continued on as usual, while she was stuck here on the ground, wondering what she'd be doing next. 

'I've got to find a new Hermit to bother.'

That's what she had told the two others down there. Sage and XisumaVoid. She had grinned and smiled with her eyes, and her tone was light. But now that she was away from them, her feelings had settled, and she was left feeling a strange feeling she had never felt before. It wasn't happy, but it wasn't quite sad either. It was almost fear. Why did this have to happen? She had been feeling just fine. Just dandy. But now that the adrenaline had worn down, she was tired and upset. 

The cat melted to the floor, curling up in a tight ball. The sun warmed her fur, the warm breeze felt nice, in stark contrast to the stiff, heavy, unmoving air of the downstairs. It was always so crampy in there, she hated it. Out here, in the fresh air, was so much more enjoyable; she could actually feel alive... well, almost at least. She felt less like a walking pile of nothingness. There, that was better. And she could actually think now. She could just lay here and focus on what the heck she would do next. 

Also maybe take a little nap. She _did_ feel really comfy, after all. 

She lay there for a few moments, her head becoming more at rest and clear with each passing second. Her thoughts became less focused, and her mind wandered. It wandered to Sage's words from before, that she didn't have to be a spy to be useful. But that wasn't right, was it? She couldn't be useful if she wasn't observing and reporting on the Hermits. No, because that was her purpose. If she didn't fulfill her purpose, then she was useless. And if her purpose was already fulfilled, and Sage and Void didn't need anything else from her, then she was even more worthless.

And she wouldn't stand for that. She wasn't useless. She wasn't wasted. She had to be enough, more than enough. She was important, and she had to stay that way. No matter what. 

And if she was going to find a new way to fulfill her purpose, she'd have to find a new Hermit to spy on. And that wouldn't happen if she just lay there in the sun. Standing up and shaking out her fur, the cat turned around. She nodded at her home and flicked her tail in a promise to return. She'd be back before sundown. She was sure of it. 

... or maybe she wouldn't be. Because by the time the sun had begun to set, Citrus was aimlessly wandering around the Shopping District, having made no progress in the slightest. There was the occasional meandering Hermit, but they rarely stayed long, just walking into a shop and back out again. Nothing interesting was happening, which was a first for the cat. Since when does _nothing_ happen at all? Not a single argument, no odd behavior, nothing noteworthy in the slightest. What was up with that?

A little nagging in the back of her mind was insisting that she went back home, that she went back to Sage and Void and the others and give up on her mission. But there was no way she could do that. There was no way she _would_ do that. She was staying away until she found a way to be useful. Even if it took days. Even if it was difficult. Even if it killed her. And that was a promise.

Even if she didn't have mobs to fear, the cat still didn't care for wandering around in the evening. There was something about the time that the sun disappeared below the horizon, and the reds and oranges of the sky faded to purples and blacks that messed with her mind. She didn't mind wandering around at night, no, that was fine. If she couldn't leave before sunset when she was with Scar, she would often leave in the early hours of the morning, where the only light was the stars and moon. She couldn't exactly explain it. It was like explaining the reason behind a phobia-- it was nearly impossible and attempting to do so only caused more confusion.

As the sun shined the last of its rays over the land, a chilly breeze swept through the buildings, making Citrus's coat fluff up. It was a bit cold, wasn't it? The evening harbored little warmth, and though she was used to it, Citrus didn't exactly care to be an icicle. The kitty glanced around to find a suitable place to take shelter in for the night. Hermits wouldn't be out and about this late, not if they wanted to avoid the bat-like phantoms that preyed on the skin of those who refused to rest. In a way, they were sort of heroic, forcing the players of their own game to take a break from time to time. It was as if they existed purely to add incentive to not working oneself to the brim of madness and sleep deprivation. Citrus quite liked the phantoms, especially since they didn't care much to go after her. 

Finding nowhere suitable to duck into, her eyes landed on a nice, large, willow tree. It was in the middle of a rather out of place clearing. The grass-- yes, grass, none of that disgusting, spongey mycelium-- was much softer than other places, the wildlife was seemingly quite tame for being 'wild', and things just seemed like organized chaos. Citrus smiled slightly. This was a nice place. She quickly climbed up the trunk of the tree and leaped onto a low-hanging branch. Her tail resting off the side of the wood, Citrus lay down, resting her head on her paws. She'd stay here until morning, then she'd resume her search.

...But she couldn't quite fall asleep.

No, there were no monsters nearby.

Yes, it was night.

And Citrus was admittedly quite tired.

But something somewhere was not allowing her to surrender to her dreams. And as she listened silently to the white noise of rustling leaves and distant bees, she realized what it was. She heard footsteps and soft humming. Instantly she perked up, her ears flicking as she listened. Was there actually someone out now? What were they doing? Who was it? The noise was getting closer and closer until it was seemingly right under Citrus's nose, blocked from her vision by the thick leaves.

The feline jumped down from the branch, quickly licking down some messed up fur that had brushed up against the leaves. She glanced around and immediately her gaze was drawn to the form of someone dressed in what seemed to be a magenta suit-- though she couldn't quite tell with how dark it was. Her hair was adorned with flowers, the stems of which tied to both each other and her hair, fixing it on her head perfectly. She was bent over a chest, humming to herself as she dug through it. After a moment, a name formed in Citrus's tired and foggy mind. This was StressMonster, she was sure of it. 

As she suddenly stood up and turned around, Citrus had no time to hide behind something, and she just stood there like a deer in headlights as Stress stared down at her, arms holding diamonds that glittered in the moonlight. She quickly deposited those in her inventorial pouch and walked over to Citrus, crouching down. "Oh, hello, love! How did you get here?" She stuck her hand out and started scratching Citrus's neck, causing the cat to flinch.

Stop. Stop. No. She hated this. Please stop. This is torture. This is so demeaning, please stop. Why did this have to happen to her. Why. 

After a few agonizing moments, Stress stood back up. "Are you lost? Why not come back with me for a bit, sound good?"

Oh. Oh, yes. Citrus's heart fluttered. Was this what she had been searching for all day? Would she finally get to spy on another Hermit? Citrus couldn't believe it. This had been worth it. She would hang about Stress and gather intel-- she _was_ just another gray cat, after all, nothing special-- and then she'd go back to Sage and V. She'd be useful again. Citrus's eyes sparkled as she nodded, just slightly, and forced out a little, "Mew." 

She would never get used to that.

But it seemed that it was enough to convince Stress, as the next thing Citrus knew, she was being carried via elytra-- the worst way to travel _by far_ \-- back to her new home-away-from-home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who spent all her time drawing instead of actually writing... That would be me! It is currently far too late for me to be staying up, and yet I am doing so anyway because I have no regard for my mental health. 
> 
> It's time for Citrus to have the spotlight for a bit! 
> 
> Thanks for coming, and I'll see you in the next one, my little Readers!
> 
> Promise out!


	23. ~Chapter Twenty-Two~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Promise didn't get enough sleep

**Present day**

Citrus wasn't expecting much from Stress, but this was far duller than she thought it would be. The two weren't even at her base-- to quote Stress, they were at her "Little temporary setup"-- so it wasn't like she could even get anything good out of this. At least it was a nice place. It was cool. Quite literally, being that Stress's camp was set up in an ice spikes biome. 

It seemed to have been set up in a very short amount of time. Into a spike was built a small wooden shack with only one room, a bed, a crafting bench and furnace, a few chests, and little more than that. Citrus had soon found the chests to be quite comfy, and resting on a chest by a torch was a nice way to spend the night. But even so, that didn't change the fact that instead of being around a bunch of Hermits, gathering intel, she was off in the middle of nowhere, freezing her tail off.

But now that it was morning, Citrus was up and ready for 'work'. Of course, being quite secluded, it was difficult for her to take any mental notes, the fact being that there was nothing on which to take any. Stress didn't seem to be doing anything, really. She was simply wandering around, looking at things. Occasionally, she'd write in a notebook. It was nearly midday and this was all the Hermit with flowers in her hair had accomplished. How was Citrus going to be useful if she couldn't find anything to report on? She didn't exactly have any idea whatsoever what exactly she was looking for, but literally anything was better than this. 

But then something caught her eye. It wasn't anything Stress was doing. No, it wasn't her at all. Off in the distance, she saw a silhouette that definitely didn't belong here. The cat meowed loudly and flicked her tail in the direction of the creature to direct the Hermit's attention to it. "What's the matter, little cat? What do you see?" She turned to where Citrus was gesturing, then gave a small gasp. "Oh!" 

For hovering, just a few ice spikes away, was a singular blaze.

That was a new one. Citrus was aware of strange happenings going on around this biome. Void was very easily convinced into giving information about things, given that soon enough none of it would matter anyway. But generally, _blazes_ didn't show up in the middle of the most wintry place in Hermitcraft. The cat hissed as the mob approached them, sizzling and crackling with flames as it went. Citrus's fur stood on end as she backed up slowly. Nope, she was _not_ in the mood to die today. The beast turned straight to her, and a burst of flames erupted from its form. Oh, no. 

As a flurry of fireballs shot at Citrus and Stress, the cat weaved and ducked and dodged the endless stream of murder bullets. Maybe she should've stayed home! The cat got distracted for just a moment by a _ding_ coming from Stress's general direction, and a fireball whizzed right past her ear, singing her whiskers. She jumped back. Why were there so many? But then, they stopped. Citrus turned to see Stress, who was holding up a bow menacingly, pulling back an arrow. The blaze turned to her and hissed before getting an arrow right in the mouth. With a shriek, it disappeared in a flash of red, leaving nothing behind but scorch marks and pools of melted water. 

Citrus turned to Stress, who was breathing heavily. With shaky hands, she placed the bow back into her pouch. "Well," she breathed. "That's that, then." Both she and Citrus turned back to the shack... or what was left of it, anyway. And that wasn't much. Only the bed, the chests, and the furnace were seemingly left untouched. The rest was either scorched, on fire, or both. The cat wasn't exactly afraid of fire, but she certainly didn't care for it and decided to take a step or two back. 

What just happened? As Stress began to repair the shack, Citrus sat and thought about the last two minutes. They had flown by in such a blur that it was difficult to place exactly everything, but one moment she was bored, and the next she was about to die. Quite the drastic shift. The cat fixed her fluffed fur and noticed that she was practically buzzing, and not just from the adrenaline. This was definitely something that the others should know. Maybe it wasn't about the Hermits, but it was still important, right? Of course it was. This mattered. She mattered. 

She had to get back to Sage and Void. 

But how? She hadn't thought this through when she voluntarily let a random Hermit take her to the middle of nowhere. Who knew when Stress was going to return to the shopping district again? Generally, this wouldn't be a problem, but Citrus literally had no clue whatsoever where she was. At best, it'd take her a day or two to even _find_ the Shopping District, unless she could get her paws on a map. And she doubted she'd be finding one of those. 

She didn't get much longer to think about her dilemma, however, as a flying mass of _something_ passed over her head. Upon further inspection, she realized it was that Iskall person, and something else. What _was_ that?

\---------

Grumbot's POV-

He did _not_ like this. This was terrible. He _really_ didn't like this. Oh gosh, this was torture, He really didn't like this. 

Grumbot clutched Iskall's ankle tighter as the swede flew high in the air, high above the ground, where they could easily fall to their demises. With the awkward weight placement, the two wobbled around, not quite steady, as Iskall tried his best to make the flight a smooth one. Robots couldn't get sick, and yet Grumbot somehow felt that now. He should've just stayed on the ground. Heck, even learning to fly an elytra Himself would've been better than this. If Grumbot had a heart, it would be beating extremely quickly right now. 

However, the same feeling was clearly not passing through Iskall, as the Hermit called out, quite loudly, to be heard over the wind, "So, Grumbot, how're you liking flying?"

To which He responded, "I am _not_ liking this! Iskall, this was a terrible idea and we should never do this again!" Since earlier, He had been working on keeping His voice down. Now, He was yelling. Quite loudly. He could yell quite loudly. 

Iskall, however, didn't seem hardly as concerned as the bot. "Hah, don't worry, we're almost there!" His elytra began to angle downwards and the ground began to come into view. It was all white, with giant, light blue stick things jutting out of the ground. This place seemed to have a strange effect on Grumbot. He felt almost... slower than usual, like things took longer than normal to process. He wondered why that was. But more importantly, Grumbot seemed to be hurtling towards the ground at a steeper angle than before. He glanced up to see Iskall clearly not paying attention to the fact that the ground was much closer than it was thirty seconds ago. And as if that wasn't bad enough, before the two would even hit the ground, they'd first ram straight into a giant blue spike thing.

This was a time where Grumbot _really_ wished he could talk.

Iskall, who was typing something into his communicator band bracelet watch thing finally glanced up. "Oh!" He quickly set off a few fireworks, being sure to do them out of the way of the robot clinging onto his leg for dear life, to swerve upwards just before the two hit the blue spike. 

Or, rather, _Iskall_ swerved out of the way of the blue spike. The sudden change of direction caused Grumbot to lose His hold on Iskall's foot. What. No. Uh oh. Before He knew what was happening, Grumbot was plummeting to the white ground below. He turned His body to see where He was going and saw just a sea of white beneath Him. Was He about to die? He was about to die. He was going to die in three, two, one...

Or perhaps not. Grumbot hit the surprisingly soft floor with a _thud_ , sinking slightly into the weird substance. He didn't quite feel anything, no pain, or whatever the heck the Hermits had. That made sense, though, as Grumbot wasn't exactly designed for that purpose. Shakily getting back to His feet, Grumbot propped Himself up on that weird blue thing. Huh. That's weird. It felt odd. Like a stingy feeling. Huh. And so did this white stuff He had been laying in. Grumbot scooped up a bit in His hand. Weird. 

As He dropped the white stuff back where it came from, a few figures came running up to Him. The first was Iskall. Worry painted his face and his eye was wide as a saucer. He spoke, out of breath, very quickly. "Grumbot! Are you alright? Are you damaged anywhere?" Grumbot quickly checked over Himself and shrugged.

"Yeah, I seem to be fine," he confirmed. Surprisingly, He was pretty much unharmed for the height he had fallen. What _is_ this stuff? Iskall gave a sigh of relief as the other two figures stepped up. One of them He had seen a few times in passing but had never formally met. The other He knew far too well. 

\--------

Citrus's POV-

Hang on a second, is this who she thought it was? It couldn't be. What? After seeing the spectacle of what had just happened, Citrus and Stress rushed over to where a _robot_ was standing with Iskall. Since when was this reality? She had to believe that this robot person was Grumbot; the screen with digital eyes and moustache was impossible to mistake. Her tail lashed as she stared up at the now-humanoid machine. "Mrow?" She would never get used to forcing those sounds out of her mouth. 

But Stress seemed to know exactly what was going on. "Hello, love," she began, clasping her hands together excitedly. "You must be Grumbot. Iskall told me about your new form!" Since when did someone know something that _she_ didn't? The cat was feeling awfully left out. 

Grumbot's screen blinked as He turned to Stress and nodded. He gave a wave. Iskall explained that Grumbot, for whatever reason, couldn't seem to talk without being asked a question first. If there weren't other people around, Citrus would've laughed out loud right there. That's rather useless, isn't it? Having pushed aside the fact that she was in the dark about such an important thing, Citrus found great amusement in this. But what's more, she found great interest. Now, the blaze from earlier was certainly something, but _this_ was a whole new story. Had Sage and Xisuma already known about this? Surely not. They would've told her. Right?

But she soon realized that she'd have to get this robot's attention somehow. She needed to grill Him a bit. Alone. She got to her feet and mewed loudly, causing Grumbot's-- Stress and Iskall were whiskers-deep in a conversation-- attention to turn to her. She flicked her tail in a silent 'follow me' and silently dashed off, ducking behind a nearby ice spike. 

After a moment, Grumbot followed. He came around the corner, His eyes narrowed. He crossed His arms and presumably waited for Citrus to speak. "So," she began. "You look different." Grumbot nodded slowly. "What's up?"

"Oh, the usual, wandering around, falling from great heights into this white stuff, not being able to escape you," He replied. His voice held a bit of a yell. What was up with that? It was like He was a child trying to keep His voice down but failing miserably. It was quite amusing. "Where's Sage, eh?" His automated voice was laced with sarcasm and annoyance, and Citrus could tell that He probably really wanted to murder her. So why didn't He? That was what she wanted to know.

Not that she particularly wanted Grumbot to murder her. That wouldn't be wonderful.

"Oh, he's off somewhere," Citrus dismissed with a wave of her tail. That wasn't important at the moment. Well, it wasn't important to her. She didn't know and frankly didn't care if Grumbot felt it important. "But no matter. How long have you... been like this?" This was a genuine question, even if she sounded like she was mocking the other. She was honestly curious. 

"Since earlier today," the other admitted with a dry voice. "But that doesn't matter much does it?" Citrus always had a great time ticking off Grumbot. He was so easy to get flustered. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to Iskall." And with not so much as a backward glance, He turned back around and began to walk-- stomp, even-- back to the others. 

But He froze as the cat called out, "And what about Jrumbot?" She could tell she had hit a nerve when Grumbot slowly turned back around, with clear anger on his electronic face. Oh, boy, that worked. 

"What about him?" Each word was drawn out and laced with contempt for Citrus. Jrumbot wasn't an easy subject for Him, and Citrus knew exactly how to milk that.

"Well," she began in the most casual tone she could muster. Grumbot began to walk back over to her, and she wrapped her tail around her paws, continuing. "You _did_ just abandon him, did you not? Not even a goodbye." The cat pouted overdramatically. "I wonder how he feels, now that you're moving around and he's stuck, _all alone._ " Her last two words were made of ice, and her amber eyes burned into Grumbot's cyan ones. His had opened wide and shook slightly. 

But He didn't say anything. Instead, he just turned around, seemingly hurt, and stalked back to the others. Citrus grinned. Interesting.

She needed to get to Sage and Void _even more_ now. 

Or, apparently, Void would get to her. 

For who should suddenly appear behind her but the admin himself. Citrus jumped back, suddenly sensing a presence behind her. Her tail fluffed up as she twisted around, her whiskers twitching. "V-Void! Hi!" She smoothed down some chest fur as Void crossed his arms.

"Citrus, where have you been?" This sounded more of an accusation than a question, and Citrus suddenly felt quite warm. Void glanced around at the biome, raising his eyebrows. "What are you doing here?" He sounded a bit nervous. Why was that?

"I was simply doing as I said I would," the cat defended herself. "I found a new Hermit to spy on." She gestured in the direction of the others with her tail. "Stress took me over here last night, if it matters." She huffed, poking at the snow with a claw. 

The bee-suited person sighed, placing a hand to his helmet in the way a normal person would put a hand to their forehead. It looked quite weird. "We're going back to the base. Sage has been worried about you." 

Citrus dug her claw deeper into the snow, poking at the dirt beneath it. Great, now she felt bad. Had he really worried that much? She hadn't been gone for _that long_ of a time, had she? Her tail lashed as her feelings conflicted with one another. She was just being helpful. "Okay, great." The cat scowled, deep in conflict, as she moved to stand next to the admin, touching his leg with her tail. She wasn't a fan of teleporting; she had done it once before and hated it. 

After a moment, Citrus felt a sickening _shift_ of the world around her and suddenly her surroundings changed. She was now standing right in the middle of the base. Void walked over to the button that would let the two into the secret rooms. "Remind me again why we can't just go right into the room," she said as the floor opened up and the two began to descent. 

"Special ward," V sighed, clearly rather annoyed. "Blocks all admin magic other than the communicator chats." Oh, right. Void had set this up as a precaution for Scar-- and Iskall, should he ever learn any magic himself. But it just made it all the more annoying for her.

"It's an annoyance," she huffed. 

"But it proved useful yesterday, no?" Countered Void. "It's annoying, but we just have to deal with it. Just for another week or two." Right, when all the plans would go down. Sage and Void would take over the world or something. Citrus wasn't all that sure, actually. And she didn't think that anyone else was either. What about when it was all over? Everything had fallen into place, their team had won, hooray. What then? What would Sage and Citrus do? She wasn't sure. She didn't like not knowing things. It was very disorienting. 

Quickly changing the subject, the cat looked up at Void, saying, "Oh! Big news. You'll never guess who I talked to _just walking around_ earlier today." Her high voice bounced off the walls, and even she had to admit she sounded like a tiny kitten.

"Grumbot; we know. Sage actually wants to talk to you about that." Void seemed terribly disinterested. Was he not interested in the slightest that a robot was just now freely walking around HermitCraft? Was this not that important? Citrus would never understand the admin. 

Well, now she felt silly. She had thought that was such a big deal, but apparently not. The cat was silent for a moment before piping up again. "Oh, Void. There was something else. You know how there ha-" 

But she was so rudely cut off by Void before she could finish. "Hold that thought," he said, still sounding very monotonous and bored. "Right here." He pressed a stone button built into the wall to open up the piston door leading to a room. Oh, had they really been walking that long? She had no idea. Wow, her sense of time really was useless. The door opened up to reveal the usual meeting room, where Sage sat on a chair, fiddling with the tie on his suit. He glanced up as Citrus and V made their way into the room, his face brightening.

"Oh, Citrus! I'm glad you're alright." He was clearly trying to stay calm, but his unnerve was unmistakable as he spoke just a bit faster than was usual. "Maybe tell us before you decide to ditch us for a day or two."

"Right," Citrus said with a slight chuckle. But she _did_ feel bad. A little. "But I do have something to report. This isn't about a Hermit, bu-" 

But she-- again-- couldn't finish her thought because she was cut off by Sage. "Citrus, Grumbot has a new body," he began. Well, she knew that. Her tail flicked as she lept up onto a chair opposite Sage. 

"Yes. I spoke to Him earlier," she confirmed as she got comfortable. The cat stretched her front legs out bending back her ears, continuing. "He still definitely hates us." Before she sat back down, Citrus turned to X, whose communicator had _dinged_ with a message. The admin narrowed his eyes with a slight scowl. 

"Sorry, I've got another glitch to work out," he remarked. His voice was hasty like he was anxious to leave. "Hate to go, but I've got to deal with this." And then he turned around to head back out the door. Just like that. Without letting Sage or Citrus say anything. What was up with him?

But before he could get out, Citrus leaped off the chair, her tail flicking in annoyance. She let out a slight hiss and stopped in front of V, glaring up at him. "Before you go, as I've been trying to say, I have something important to tell you two." She kept her gaze trained on Void and her tail continued to swish rhythmically. After a good thirty seconds, Void broke their stare and sat down on the chair she had been sitting on. Sage sat back, folding his arms as she leaped onto a table in between the chairs.

Now satisfied with having her two companions' attention, Citrus flicked an ear. "Earlier today, I was busy watching Stress." She almost added, 'like I promised I would', but decided against it. "When out of the blue, a blaze appeared." Void gave a small gasp, narrowing his eyes and sitting up. Citrus turned her gaze to him. "I don't suppose you were aware that Nether mobs are spawning in the ice spike biome?"

Sage butt in, speaking quickly. "Hang on, Citrus, you got attacked by a _blaze_? Are you alright?" His voice was full of worry, even though Citrus was standing right there, perfectly unharmed.

She nodded. "Yes, singed a few whiskers is all. Stress got the blaze before it could do any real harm." She licked down some of her chest fur, which had popped back up. She grinned. "I'm not a kitten." Citrus turned to Void, who hadn't said a word, seemingly frozen. "That's all, Void. Go tend to your important things."

Void nodded. "Yeah- right." He stood up quickly and walked even quicker to the door, leaving without another word. Sage and Citrus stared after him in silence with matching frowns. Was he alright? 

After a moment of awkward silence, Sage turned back to Citrus, sitting up. "So... Back to the matter at hand, I have a bit of a fun idea."

\-------

**A few hours later**

Grumbot's POV-

Wow, the sunset was even better than Grumbot thought. To think that all this time, such a beautiful view was waiting just behind Him, and all He had to do was turn around and He would've seen it. It was beautiful, the bright orb melting into the blues of the ocean, the sky burning orange and yellow, then fading into deep purples and blues, Grumbot leaned against His former body, now out of commission, admiring the scenery. If He could smile, he'd be doing so. He wondered why fewer Hermits just watched the sunset. Had they grown tired of it?

Nevertheless, Grumbot was enjoying it here and now, and, quite frankly, that was all that mattered to Him. After the insane day of getting a new body, flying around and experiencing way more near-death experiences than He would have preferences, and meeting at least half of the Hermits, He was ready to fall into sleep mode after the sun fully set.

But apparently, life had other plans for Him, as He heard the unmistakeable chattering of His two least favorite people from behind. He ignored them, however. Hopefully, they wouldn't bother Him. This was a longshot, He knew, but one could hope, right? 

But hoping wasn't enough-- it never was-- and before long, Grumbot heard His name being called out by the annoying feline. "Grumbot!" Her high, shrill voice stabbed His insides like an electric shock. How could a voice physically harm Him? He didn't have the capacity to feel pain, and yet Citrus was somehow managing to make Him feel it. That was another level of torture that only she was capable of doing. 

Slowly, Grumbot turned around, his big cyan eyes narrowing. The sunset from behind Him washed the two figures' bodies in a warm orange flush, while Grumbot's screen glowed a cool blue. He folded His arms and waited for the two to speak. They wouldn't be going away anytime soon, so what's the use in trying to get them to do so? He glared at the phony pretending to be His creator-dad, who gave Him a sneer in return. Oh, how He hated these two.

It took a moment, but, finally, the evil Mumbo clone began to speak. "Well, Grumbot. Nice to see you again." It's never nice to see you, Sage. But Grumbot kept quiet and Sage continued talking. "How are you enjoying the novelty of portability?"

"It's convenient," Grumbot answered, His voice dry. He didn't feel like being all that animated at the moment. "Why are you here?" He crossed His arms and kept His gaze trained on Sage. Next to him, Citrus snickered, and Grumbot clenched His fist. She wasn't satisfied from earlier? Her accusation still rang in His mind. How _did_ Jrumbot feel? Could he be mad at Grumbot? And how did Citrus know the exact thing needed to strike a nerve with Him?

"You're so strung up, Grumbot," the cat purred. "We're just here to chat." She stepped forward, brushing up against His leg. 

He almost kicked her. What a shame that would've been.

Sage rolled his eyes, though it was hardly noticeable. "Well, a bit more than chat," he admitted, his eyes glinting. "We'd like to propose an... alliance. ... Again." No. No, nope, definitely not. Not in a million years. How many times had Sage tried to get Grumbot to join his team? Three? Maybe four. And each time, Grumbot responded in the same way. 'No.' Unfortunately, He couldn't do so now, be it that technically Sage hadn't asked a question, but Grumbot was screaming it so loudly in His artificial mind that it may as well had exploded out into the real world. 

And that must've worked, and Sage must've heard Him, as he held a finger up. "Now, you are probably not agreeing with me," the other continued, putting his hand down, now that he had gotten Grumbot's attention. At least he got _something_ right. "But we'd like you to at least hear us out." After a moment of contemplation, Grumbot slowly nodded. He wasn't about to change His mind-- why would He? These are literally the people who imprisoned His father!-- but was interested nonetheless in what even they had to say. "Perfect."

He grinned, and Grumbot instantly knew this was a mistake.

Citrus returned to Sage's side, and said, "Now, your new body is a new development. No-one knew before now about this." Grumbot nodded slowly. Where was she going with this? "Iskall did this to you. We know that. But there is something we don't know. Did he ask you if you even wanted a new body?"

Oh. "Well-" Grumbot began, His eyes widening. "No, he didn't. But-" But He wasn't able to finish, as Citrus talked over Him.

"I wasn't asking for an explanation," Citrus insisted, her amber eyes boring into Grumbot's screen as if lasers were about to come out. Her high voice was surprisingly serious for her usual flippant demeanor. It was mildly unsettling. "Yes or no question, Grumbot. Did Iskall ask you if you wanted a new body?"

After a moment, Grumbot answered slowly. "...No." 

This seemed to satisfy Citrus. "Mhm." There was a moment of silence, and Grumbot began to think. Iskall never _did_ ask Him what He wanted, did he? No, he didn't. But if he _had,_ then Grumbot would've said yes anyway, so it didn't matter. Wouldn't He have? Yes, of course He would. Grumbot was appreciative of His new body. Given the choice, He'd pick this over being stationary for the rest of time. Definitely. Probably. Maybe? 

He hated these two so much. 

Sage stepped forward next. Why did this feel like an interrogation instead of a business proposal? "Now, moving on from that, Grumbot, I'm noticing you're still a tad on the quiet side. I don't suppose there's a reason for that." Grumbot narrowed His eyes, glaring at Sage. Of course he would pull this. "Hm? Sorry, if you're going to want me to understand what you mean, you'll have to actually tell me. Relationships are all about communication, you know." Grumbot wouldn't mind strangling Sage, actually. "You still can't talk of your own free will, now, can you?" 

Grumbot begrudgingly spat out His answer. "No, I can't." 

Sage grinned, showing his crooked teeth. "That's what I thought." He stepped forward a bit, and Grumbot took a step back accordingly. "And who's to blame for that? Iskall again? Tsk, tsk." He sneered, and it took all of Grumbot's self-restraint to not yell at him.

"It's not his fault, it's just my code," Grumbot barked. He took a step forward and He and Sage were face to face. Though, while Grumbot's eyes were narrowed and He was almost quaking, Sage just stood there calmly, smiling down at Him. 

"Your code, your code. What a wonderful excuse. But." Sage held up his finger again "Could Iskall not have changed things? Wait, don't answer that," he said, folding his arms and taking a step back. "You don't want to think your friend doesn't have your best interests in mind." This wasn't a question; this was a statement. And it wasn't entirely false, either. Why did Sage have to be so annoying and right? But if he was trying to get Grumbot to join his side, he was still failing miserably. He was about ready to pick Citrus up and throw her off His platform, so it was rather the opposite. 

Sage continued. "Now, one last thing I thought I'd mention." Finally. Grumbot was just about done with this. The sun was almost gone, and it was getting dark. He was missing the end of His first sunset. How dare these two take that from Him. "Your little brother; Jrumbot."

Wait, no. 

No, Sage, you are _not_ allowed to bring up Jrumbot. 

But Sage apparently didn't hear Grumbot's internal refusal, and he continued on anyway. "I hear you two are close... or, at least, you _were_ close." Grumbot tensed up. That was the exact wrong thing to say. The end rods now provided much of the light, washing everything in a white glare. The white and blue provided a much different atmosphere than His nice sunset from before. It was a stark white, slicing through the air, much like Sage's words. "And you miss him, right?"

"Yes," Grumbot answered. What was going on? He had no idea whatsoever what Sage was getting at. Grumbot glanced over to His old body, on which Citrus was now perched, watching the conversation intently. A cool breeze swept through, ruffling her fur and she fluffed up. Grumbot would've snickered mockingly if He could. He turned back to Sage. "...why?" 

"What if I told you that, should you work with us, we could help to get Jrumbot in a body of his own?" 

Grumbot blinked. He didn't answer; He couldn't. He could feel two pairs of eyes staring into Him, and He stepped back a bit. Sage could get Jrumbot a body too? No, that would be impossible. Iskall had to work for days on this, and so did Scar. There was no way that Sage would be able to do it. Right? And even if he could... "No."

This seemed to surprise Sage. He cocked his head slightly before quickly recomposing himself. "Well, then. Your loss, I suppose. But..." He slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a small sliver of something or other. It looked like tape. "Take this."

No, Grumbot didn't think He would. He shook his head and crossed His arms. Did Sage really think that Grumbot would just take something that he offered Him? He wasn't an idiot. 

Sage held His gaze for a moment before giving a slight chuckle. "Alright, I guess you are a bit suspicious. Smart." He held up the tape so that Grumbot could see. It was a silver color throughout the entire thing and didn't look like anything special. It seemed to emit a soft and high-pitched humming noise. "This, my friend, is a special communicator. You can use it to communicate directly to Citrus, me, or-" Sage, much to Grumbot's confusion, stumbled for a moment over his words. "Directly to Citrus or me," he corrected. 

Huh. What was that all about? And why should Grumbot ever want to do _that_? Grumbot shook His head again. 

Sage frowned. "Why not?" He sounded almost impatient as he spoke. Did he _really_ have no clue why?

"Because it's from _you,_ " Grumbot snarled. He jabbed a finger at Sage's chest. "Why would _I_ want to ever speak with you or the little furball?" 

He ignored a complaint from Citrus and glared at Sage as he spoke. "In case you ever change your mind, of course. If your desire for your and Jrumbot's survival trumps your silly morals." His voice was smooth and unwavering, without a trace of emotion in it. And there he went again, bringing Grumbot's brother into it. 

Grumbot was still and unmoving for a moment before He begrudgingly snatched the tape from a smiling Sage. It was magnetic and stuck to His hand. Weird. How did Sage even make this? After a bit of consideration, He wrapped it around the metal antenna sticking out of His head, right under the red orb. Sage nodded and Citrus leaped off of Grumbot's old body, a smirk painting her smug face. She purred. "Keep in touch," she laughed. 

"I hope to see you soon, Grumbot. It's been nice chatting with you," Sage said. And with that, the two were gone, having disappeared into the sky. Grumbot turned around, pressing a finger to the red bobble. How did this work? Was it like how He used to communicate with Jrumbot? Grumbot walked over to the side of His larger body and leaned on it. He concentrated on an endrod and began to search deep into his electronic mind for the familiar pull. And there it was. Huh. How did that work? Those two probably had their own communicators somewhere. 

But that didn't matter right now. He missed the sunset and now it was time to pop into sleepmode. Grumbot turned around to begin to climb up the-

_Ah!_

_What was that? He froze as something like a stab jolted through His entire body. It was... pain. He was feeling pain. And oh gosh He really felt it. It was as if someone drew a sword and pierced Him through the chest, through the legs, through the arms, through the head. It was unbearable. How did everyone else live with this? Why was this happening? How? What? The world went white. And then-_

Grumbot turned around to begin to climb up the huge block. He shook His head out. What had happened? It was blurry. He was climbing, and then suddenly He had turned back around. But He didn't remember what exactly happened. A chunk of His memory had been wiped clean. 

Odd.

Grumbot lay against the 'neck' of the machine and turned on His sleepmode. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy March! I love March. But that doesn't matter, does it? You're not here-- I'm assuming-- to listen to me talk about my love for March.
> 
> I love writing Citrus so much, she's just a little evil bean! 
> 
> I've been planning this out since October, and I'm so glad I've finally gotten to write it!
> 
> Anyway, thanks for coming, and I'll see you in the next one, my little Readers!
> 
> Promise out!

**Author's Note:**

> Begin date: June 22, 2020
> 
> \-------
> 
> This is set in Season Seven, and canon events have happened up to around June 20th, 2020. 
> 
> There should be minimal blood/gore because minecraft 
> 
> I can not confirm nor deny the possible Permadeath
> 
> \---
> 
> Do not expect this to be posted consistently
> 
> \--------
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy!
> 
> NOTE: THIS AU DOES NOT IN ANY WAY, SHAPE, OR FORM IMPLY/ACT ON ANY ROMANTIC SHIPPING BETWEEN HERMITS. Any relationships in this AU are purely platonic.


End file.
